II 

II 









i 



I 




Class _ 

Book__ 

Copight]^?. 



H-^' 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



READINGS 
FROM LITERATURE 



EDITED BY 
REUBEN POST HALLECK, M.A., LL.D. 

AUTHOR OF " HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE " 
" HALLECK'S new ENGLISH LITERATURE" 

AND 

ELIZABETH GRAEME BARBOUR, B.A. 

HEAD OF ENGLISH DEPARTMENT 
GIRLS HIGH SCHOOL, LOUISVILLE, KY. 




AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY 

\ 

NEW YORK CINCINNATI CHICAGO 






Copyright, 1915, by 
REUBEN POST HALLECK and ELIZABETH GRAEME BARBOUR. 



READINGS FROM LITERATURE. 
W. P. I 




MAY "7 1915 

©CI.A398717 



PREFACE 

The editors of this volume have tried to choose from both 
English and American prose writers and poets such entire 
selections or complete units as will interest pupils. Modern 
experience shows increasingly the difficulty of developing a 
love for literature through what is disliked. If the expe- 
rience of the editors with their own classes is any basis for 
prediction, these selections will make pupils wish to read more 
from the same authors and from others that resemble them. 

Enjoyment of literature is a progressive art, gradually 
developed like other arts, hence these selections are not 
arranged in chronological order. They begin with a simple, 
humorous prose story and end with Milton's poetry. 

The taste for poetry is often an acquired one, but experience 
has taught the editors that by starting with the right selec- 
tions a lasting love of poetry can be developed. Teachers 
should encourage pupHs to memorize at least parts of the 
poems in this volume and to read all of them aloud. Former 
pupils have often taken the trouble to say to the editors 
that memorizing and reading aloud certain poems resulted 
in an increased liking for poetry. Matthew Arnold has truly 
said that we ought "to have always in mind lines and expres- 
sions from the great masters and apply them as a touchstone 
to other poetry." Such touchstones from the masters will 
be found in this volume. 

An endeavor is made to stress the social side of English, — 
the side that appeals to^veryday human needs and interests. 
Social discussion ought to be as natural as breathing, after 



4 PREFACE 

the class have read Kipling's The Law of the Jungle, O. Henry's 
The Chaparral Prince, Thomas Hardy's The Three Strangers, 
Lincoln's Letter to General Joseph Hooker, Huxley's The Game 
of Life, or any of the other selections, whether prose or poetry. 
The ''Study Hints" of the several groups of lyrics, for in- 
stance, are given so as to make them a social exercise. It is 
hoped that both teacher and pupil will take pleasure in enter- 
taining the entire class with oral reproduction or expressive 
reading of some of the books indicated in the " Suggested 
Readings" which follow each selection or group. Oral Eng- 
lish is commonly social English, and this entire book calls for 
a social interchange of opinion on every author read. (See 
pages 6, 7.) 

These Readings are also planned to supplement the work 
in composition and rhetoric, since they present the four 
principles of discourse and suggest definite practice in those 
forms of expression necessary in actual life. The "Oral and 
Written English" is based on the accompanying prose 
selections. The literature and composition courses may, 
however, be separated if so desired. 

While the great classic English authors are well represented 
in these selections, the new tendency not to neglect modern 
writers is recognized. Permission has accordingly been 
secured to use copyright material from such writers as Rud- 
yard Kipling, O. Henry, Alfred Noyes, John Masefield, Wil- 
liam Butler Yeats, James Whitcomb Riley, Joel Chandler 
Harris, Helen Keller, and from many others to whom acknowl- 
edgment is made in a footnote on the first page of their selec- 
tions. 

R. P. H. 
E. G. B. 



PRACTICE IN ORAL AND WRITTEN 

ENGLISH 

Pupils should be required to practice the use of oral Eng- 
lish every day. They should relate definitely something 
that they have seen, heard, or read. The walk to or from 
school, each ride in a street car, every conversation with a 
friend, all recitations in school, the news of the day, every 
page read in a book or a magazine, every subject that needs 
brief argument or longer debate, all experience with work or 
play, will furnish enough material for a number of connected 
oral sentences. The business of life, as a rule, requires not 
lengthy oral or written compositions but readiness and 
definiteness in dealing briefly with the matter in hand. 

Oral English requires a readier vocabulary than written 
English. A vocabulary never drops down like manna from 
heaven. Words and their meanings must be learned. Care- 
ful reading of the selections in this book and rigorous use of 
the dictionary for every word not intimately known will add 
materially to the vocabulary of the pupil. 

Words entirely unused have little value. The pupil must 
have daily practice in employing the words that he has 
learned. Their oral use affords the readiest practice. Every 
pupil should keep a notebook in which he may write words 
with which he is not well acquainted. He should frequently 
consult this list to see if he remembers having actually used 
them. The teacher should have the pupil use intelli- 
gently the words in the vocabulary under ''Study Hints." 

All persons have an active and a semi-passive vocabulary. 
Words actually used in speaking and writing constitute the 

5 



6 PRACTICE IN ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 

active vocabulary. The semi-passive vocabulary includes 
the larger number comprehended only when we interpret the 
speech of others or the matter that we read. The everyday 
working life of the world requires that our English training 
shall be such as to fit us for two different reactions: (i) to 
understand what others say and write, (2) to make others 
understand our speech and writing. The same kind of prac- 
tice will not make one proficient in both fields. 

A good working rule for every student is : 

Be ever on the watch to add to your vocabulary. Have sufficient 
practice in oral and written English to make your semi- passive 
vocabulary coincide more nearly with your active vocabulary. 

Language is an imitative art. We bewail the fact that 
children learn slang and incorrect expressions through imi- 
tation. Good English is just as contagious as bad English. 
The only trouble is that we have not been giving pupils 
sufficient of the best models. Teachers will find that the 
careful reading of the selections in this book will improve 
the pupil's spoken and written English. If Macaulay had 
not read widely in his youth, he could never have acquired 
such grasp of vigorous language. Much of this mastery came 
to him unconsciously as a result of the deep interest that he 
took in what he read and of his practice in spoken English. 
He was a speaker as well as a writer. The teacher should re- 
member that oral English functions naturally and easily with 
everyday life. 

An interested, suggestive teacher can make every one of 
the following selections serve for practice in oral English. 
Fortunately pupils are anxious to tell a good story. They 
may also be easily encouraged to give a brief, vigorous state- 
ment of what appeals to them in matter that is not in narra- 
tive form, and to compare various selections with each other. 
Sometimes oral discussion will be found more interesting and 
more social than narration. For instance, the teacher will 



PRACTICE IN ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 7 

find that the class will enjoy discussing the question whether 
they would be tempted by a reward to help officers of the 
law catch the " Prince,' in O. Henry's The Chaparral Prince 
(p. 201), and what sort of verdict they would feel like re- 
turning if they happened to be on the jury that tried him. 
Many questions for discussion will naturally suggest them- 
selves in the other selections, e.g. in Hardy's The Three 
Strangers (p. 269), where pupils will talk sensibly on such 
questions as : "Would you be willing to eat only bread for a 
week, if you could thereby enable the condemned man to 
escape ? Would it be right for you to aid him in avoiding the 
penalty of the law ? Suppose a member of your class were 
to aid in catching him, what standing in the class would 
that member have ? What do you think about this English 
law that considered property more sacred than persons?" 

Not a few of the subjects given after the selections under 
the heading '' Suggestions for Oral and Written Enghsh" may 
be used interchangeably for oral or written composition. 
The "Study Hints" also furnish numerous suggestions for 
practice in oral English. The "Suggestions for Additional 
Readings" will also serve the same purpose. The teacher 
should constantly use the leverage of social stimulus in con- 
nection with this volume and should encourage the student 
to tell his family and friends w^hat he has read. A genuine 
desire to interest them will cause him to master the subject 
matter so that he can present it in a vigorous way and with 
no hesitation. The same motive may be used to cause him to 
profit by the "Suggestions for Additional Readings," and to 
search for matter that his classmates or other associates will 
enjoy hearing him read. 



CONTENTS 



Zenobia's Infidelity . . Henry Cuyler Bunner 
The Law of the Jungle . Rudy ard Kipling 

(From The Second Jungle Book) 
Gulliver's First Dinner at 

Brobdingnag . . Jonathan Swift . 

(From Gidliver^s Travels^ 
Gardening .... Charles Dudley Warner 

(From My Summer in a Garden^ 
The Rescue of the Sheep Richard D. Blackmore 

(From Lorna Doone) 
The Angel and the Child 
Hereward's Adventure 
WITH the White-Bear 

(From Hereward the Wake) 
The Parting of Marmion 

and Douglas . . Sir Walter Scott 

(From Marmion) ^ 
The Escape FROM the Tower Charles Reade 

(From The Cloister and the Hearth) 
The Highwayman . . Alfred Noyes 
Wee Willie Winkie . . . Rudyard Kipling 
A Group of Nature Lyrics : . . . , 

The Wind . . 



Margaret Steele Anderson 
Charles Kifigsley. 



The Grass 

The Brook 

Written in March . 

Song from Pippa Passes 



Robert Louis Stevenson 
Emily Dickinson 
John B. Tabb 
William Wordsworth 
Robei't Browning 



29 



33 

3^ 
42 

48 
50 

59 
63 

69 
76 

91 

91 

92 

93 
93 
94 



lO 



CONTENTS 



How Mr. Rabbit was too 

Sharp for Mr Fox . Joel Chandler Harris . 
(From Uncle Remus, His Songs and His Sayings^ 
Christian and Hopeful in 

THE Dungeon . . John Bunya7i 
(From The PilgrinCs Progress^ 
Skipper Ireson's Ride . John GreenleaJ Whittier 
The Two Matches . . Robert Louis Stevenson 
The Ballad of the Oyster- 
man .... Oliver Wendell Holmes 
Three Sea Pictures and a 

Moral . . . Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 

(From The A^icient Mariner^ 
A Descent into the Mael- 
strom .... 
A Group of Bird Poems : . 
The Skylark . 
The First Mocking Bird in 
Spriag .... 
Tampa Robins 
The Whippoorwill . 
The First Bluebird . 
Captain Phips's Search for 
Sunken Treasure 
(From Magnalid) 
Speech on a Resolution to 
put Virginia into a 
State of Defense . 
The Skeleton in Armor . 
The Pine-Tree Shillings , 

(From Grandjather'^s Chair) 
WouTER Van Twiller . Washington Irving 
(From Knickerbocker'' s History of New York) 



Edgar Allan Poe 

Percy Bysshe Shelley . 

Paul Hamilton Hayiie 
Sidney Lanier 
Madison Cawein 
Jafnes Whitcomb Riley 

Cotton Mather . 



PAGE 

97 



1 02 



107— * 
1124^ 

115 
117 



122' 

141 

141 

142 

144 
146 

149 



Patrick Henry . 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

Natha7iiel Hawthorne. 



158 
164 
171W-. 

177. 



CONTENTS 



II 



A Second Group of Nature 
Lyrics : ... 

AriePs Song, from The 

Tempest 
Daffodils 
On the Grasshopper and 

Cricket 
Three Pictures from The 

Palace of Art 
The Lake Isle of Innisfree 
Love is Stronger than 
Hate .... 
(From A Tale of Two Cities) 
A Day in June . . . fames Russell Lowell . 

(PVom The Vision of Sir Laiinfal) 
The Chaparral Prince . O. Henry . 
The Old Husband and the 

Young Wife . . Richard Brinsley Sheridan 
(From The School for Scandal) 



William Shakespeare 
Williatn Wordsworth . 

foh7i Keats . 

Alfred Tennyson 
William Butler Yeats 

Charles Dickens . 



The Storm at Sea 

(From The Tempest) 
Plain Language from 

Truthful James 
The Ambitious Guest 
The Humblebee . 
An Epitaph on Salathiel 

Pavy . 
To A Waterfowl 
A Group of Letters : 
Letter to St. Nicholas 
Letter to Gertrude . 
Letter to Mrs. James T 
Fields . 



William Shakespeare . 



Bret Harte 
Nathaniel Hawthorne 
Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Ben fonsoii 

Williajn Culleji Bryant 

Helen Keller 
Lewis Carroll 

Charles Dickens . 



PAGE 

182 

182 
182 

183 

184 

185 



198 



20I- 



215 



221 



231 

234' 
246 



250 

252- 

254 

254 

255 

256 



CONTENTS 




eph 


PAGE 


Abraham Lincoln 


. 258 


Edgar Allan Poe 


. 262 


Helen Keller 


• 264 


ive In) 




Thomas Hardy . 


. 269 


John Masefield . 


. 298 



12 

Letter to General Joseph 
Hooker 
Annabel Lee 
The Seeing Hand 

(From The World J Live In) 
The Three Strangers 
Laugh and Be Merry 
The London Visits of a 
Country Lord in the 
Time of Charles IL 

(From History of Engla7id) 
How Many Ways . . Cale Young Rice . 
The Celestial Surgeon . Robert Louis Stevenso7i 
The Game of Life . . Thomas Henry Huxley 

(From A Liberal Education ajtd Where to Ei?id It) 
A Country Sunday 

(From The Spectator) 
Autobiography . 

(From PrcEterita) 
Satan .... 

(From Paradise Lost) 



Thomas Babington Macaulay 300 



304 
306. 

307 



Joseph Addison 
John Ruskifi 
John Milton 



310 



315 



3ii 



READINGS FROM LITERATURE 

ZENOBIA'S INFIDELITY! 
Henry Cuyler Bunner 

Henry Cuyler Bunner (1855-1896) was bom in Oswego, New York. 
He was for many years editor of Puck, one of the most famous humorous 
magazines of the United States. He wrote three volumes of short stories, 
most of which show an unusual and delightful humor. See also : 

National Cyclopedia of American Biography. 

Warner's World's Best Literature, Vol. VII, 2731-2733. 

Brander Matthews' The Historical Novel and Other Essays. 

Dr. Tibbitt stood on the porch of Mrs. Pennypepper's 
boarding house, and looked up and down the deserted Main 
Street of Sagawaug with a contented smile, the while he 
buttoned his driving gloves. The little doctor had good 
cause to be content with himself and with everything else 
— with his growing practice, with his comfortable boarding 
house, with his own good looks, with his neat attire, and with 
the world in general. He could not but be content with 
Sagawaug, for there never was a prettier country town. 
The doctor looked across the street and picked out the very 
house that he proposed to buy when the one remaining desire 
of his soul was gratified. It was a house with a hip roof and 
with a long garden running down to the river. 

There was no one in the house to-day, but there was no 
one in any of the houses. Not even a pair of round bare 

1 Copyright, 1890, by Puck Publishing Corporation. This story and its illustrations 
are used in this volume by special arrangement with Puck Publishing Corporation. 

13 



14 HENRY CUYLER BUNNER 

arms was visible among the clothes that waved in the August 
breeze in every backyard. It was circus day in Sagawaug. 

The doctor was climbing into his gig when a yell startled 
him. A freckled boy with saucer eyes dashed around the 
corner. 

''Doctor!" he gasped, "come quick! The circus got 
afire an' the trick elephant's most roasted !" 

"Don't be silly, Johnny," said the doctor, reprovingly. 

"Hope to die — Honest Injun — cross my breast!" said 
the boy. The doctor knew the sacredness of this juvenile 
oath. 

" Get in here with me," he said, " and if I find you're trying 
to be funny, I'll drop you in the river." 

As they drove toward the outskirts of the town, Johnny 
told his tale. 

"Now," he began, "the folks was all out of the tent after 
the show was over, and one of the circus men, he went to the 
oil barrel in the green wagon with Dan'l in the Lion's Den 
onto the outside of it, an' he took in a candle an' left it there, 
and fust thing the barrel busted, an' he wasn't hurted a bit, 
but the trick elephant she was burned awful, an' the ring- 
tailed baboon, he was so scared he had a fit. Say, did you 
know baboons had fits?" 

When they reached the circus grounds, they found a crowd 
around a small side-show tent. A strong odor of burnt leather 
confirmed Johnny's story. Dr. Tibbitt pushed his way 
through the throng, and gazed upon the huge beast, lying on 
her side on the grass, her broad shoulder charred and quiver- 
ing. Her bulk expanded and contracted with spasms of 
agony, and from time to time she uttered a moaning sound. 
On her head was a structure of red cloth, about the size of a 
bushel basket, apparently intended to look like a British 
soldier's forage cap. This was secured by a strap that went 
under her chin — if an elephant has a chin. This scarlet 




ZENOBIA'S INFIDELITY 15 

cheese box every now and then sHpped down over her eye, 
and the faithful animal patiently, in all her anguish, adjusted 
it with her prehensile trunk. 

By her side stood her keeper and the proprietor of the show, 
a large man with a dyed mustache, a wrinkled face, and hair 
oiled and frizzed. These two bewailed their 
loss alternately. 

''The boss elephant in the business!" 
cried the showman. ''Barnum never had 
no trick elephant like Zenobia. And them 
lynes and Dan'l was painted in new before 
I took the road this season. Oh, there's 
been a hoodoo on me since I showed ag'inst 
the Sunday-school picnic!" 

''That there elephant's been like my own child," groaned 
the keeper, "or my own wife, I may say." 

The doctor had been carefully examining his patient. 

"If there is any analogy — "he began. 

"Neuralogy!" snorted the indignant showman; "'t ain't 
neuralogy, you jay pill box, she's cooked T' 

"If there is any analogy," repeated Dr. Tibbitt, flushing 
a little, "between her case and that of a human being, I 
think I can save your elephant. Get me a barrel of linseed 
oil, and drive these people away." 

The doctor's orders were obeyed with eager submission. 
He took off his coat and went to work. He had never 
doctored an elephant, and the job interested him. At the 
end of an hour, Zenobia's sufferings were somewhat alleviated. 
She lay on her side, chained tightly to the ground, and 
swaddled in bandages. Her groans had ceased. 

"I'll call to-morrow at noon," said the doctor — "good 
gracious, what's that ?" Zenobia's trunk was playing around 
his waistband. ^ 

"She wants to shake hands with you," her keeper ex- 



i6 



HENRY CUYLER BUNNER 



plained. ''She's a lady, she is, and she knows you done her 
good." 

''I'd rather not have anything of the sort," said the doctor, 
decisively. 

When Dr. Tibbitt called at twelve on the morrow, he 
found Zenobia's tent neatly roped in, an amphitheater of 
circus benches constructed around her, and this amphitheater 
packed with people. 




^-^SjvJ^ 



"Got a quarter apiece from them jays," whispered the 
showman, "jest to see you dress them wownds." Subse- 
quently the showman relieved his mind to a casual acquaint- 
ance. "He's got a heart like a gunflint, that doctor," he 
said, "made me turn out every one of them jays and give 
'em their money back before he'd lay a hand to Zenobia." 

But if the doctor suppressed the clinic, neither he nor the 
showman suffered. From dawn till dusk people came from 
miles around to stare a quarter's worth at the burnt elephant. 
Once in a while, as a rare treat, the keeper lifted a corner of 
her bandages, and revealed the seared flesh. The show went 



ZENOBIA'S INFIDELITY 17 

off in a day or two, leaving Zenobia to recover at leisure ; 
and as it wandered westward, it did an increased business 
simply because it had had a burnt trick elephant. Such, 
dear friends, is the human mind. 

The doctor fared even better. The fame of his new case 
spread far and wide. People seemed to think that if he could 
cure an elephant he could cure anything. He was called 
into consultation in neighboring towns. Women in robust 
health imagined ailments, so as to send for him and ask him 
shuddering questions about "that wretched animal." The 
trustees of the orphan asylum made him staff physician — 
in this case the doctor thought he could trace a connection of 
ideas, in which children and a circus were naturally associated. 
And the local newspaper called him a savant. 

He called every day upon Zenobia, who greeted him with 
trumpetings of joyful welcome. She also desired to shake 
hands with him, and her keeper had to sit on her head and 
hold her trunk to repress the familiarity. In two weeks she 
was cured, except for extensive and permanent scars, and she 
waited only for a favorable opportunity to rejoin the circus. 

The doctor had got his fee in advance. 

Upon a sunny afternoon in the last of August, Dr. Tibbitt 
jogged slowly toward Sagawaug in his neat little gig. He 
had been to Pelion, the next town, to call upon Miss Minetta 
Bunker, the young lady whom he desired to install in the 
house with the garden running down to the river. He had 
found her starting out for a drive in Tom Matson's dogcart. 
Now, the doctor feared no foe, in medicine or in love ; but 
when a young woman is inscrutable as to the state of her 
affections, when the richest young man in the county is 
devoting himself to her, and when the young lady's mother is 
backing the rich man, ^ young country doctor may well feel 
perplexed and anxious over his chance of the prize. 

H. & B. READINGS — 2 



i8 



HENRY CUYLER BUNNER 



The doctor was so troubled, indeed, that he paid no heed 
to a heavy, repeated thud behind him, on the macadamized 
road. His gentle little mare heard it, though, and began to 
curvet and prance. The doctor was pulling her in, and calm- 
ing her with a "soo — soo — down, girl, down!" when he 
interrupted himself to shout, 
'' Great Ceesar ! get off me ! " 

Something like a yard of rubber hose had come in through 
the side of the buggy, and was rubbing itself against his face. 

He looked around, and 
the cold sweat stood 
out on him as he saw 
Zenobia, her chain drag- 
ging from her hind foot, 
her red cap a-cock on 
her head, trotting along 
by the side of his vehicle, 
snorting with joy, and 
evidently bent on lav- 
ishing her pliant, ser- 
pentine, but leathery 
caresses upon his per- 
son. 

His fear vanished in 
a moment. The animal's intentions were certainly pacific, 
to put it mildly. He reflected that if he could keep his horse 
ahead of her, he could toll her around the block and back 
toward her tent. He had hardly guessed, as yet, the depth 
of the impression which he had made upon Zenobia's heart, 
which must have been a large organ, if the size of her ears 
was any indication — according to the popular theory. 

The doctor tolled his elephant around the block without 
further misadventure, and they started up the road toward 
Zenobia's tent, Zenobia caressinof her benefactor while 




c^^v 



ZENOBIA'S INFIDELITY 19 

shudders of antipathy ran over his frame. In a few minutes 
the keeper hove in sight. Zenobia saw him first, blew a shrill 
blast on her trumpet, close to the doctor's ear, bolted through 
a snake fence, lumbered across a turnip field, and disappeared 
in a patch of woods, leaving the doctor to quiet his excited 
horse and to face the keeper, who advanced with rage in his 
eye. 

"What do you mean, you cuss," he began, "weaning a 
man's elephant's affections away from him? You ain't got 
no more morals than a Turk, you ain't. That elephant an' 
me has been side-partners for fourteen years, an' here you 
come between us." 

"I don't want your confounded elephant," roared the 
doctor. "Why don't you keep it chained up ? " 

"She busted her chain to git after you," replied the keeper. 
"Oh, I seen you two lally-gaggin' all along the road. I 
knowed you wa'n't no good the first time I set eyes on yer, 
a-sayin' hoodoo words over the poor dumb beast." 

The doctor resolved to banish "analogy" from his vocab- 
ulary. 

The next morning, about four o'clock, Dr.Tibbitt awoke 
with a troubled mind. - He had driven home after midnight 
from a late call, and he had had an uneasy fancy that he saw 
a great shadowy bulk ambling along in the mist-hid fields 
by the roadside. He jumped out of bed and went to the 
window. Below him, completely covering Mrs. Penny- 
pepper's nasturtium bed, her prehensile trunk ravaging the 
early chrysanthemums, stood Zenobia, swaying to and fro, 
the dew glistening on her seamed sides beneath the early morn- 
ing sunlight. The doctor hastily dressed himself and slipped 
downstairs and out, to meet this Frankenstein's-monster of 
affection. x 

There was but one thing to do. Zenobia would follow him 



20 HENRY CUYLER BUNNER 

wherever he went — she rushed madly through Mrs. Penny- 
pepper's roses to greet him — and his only course was to lead 
her out of the town before people began to get up, and to 
detain her in some remote meadow until he could get her 
keeper to come for her and secure her by force or stratagem. 
He set off by the least frequented streets, and he experienced 
a pang of horror as he remembered that his way led him past 
the house of his one professional rival in Sagawaug. Sup- 
pose Dr. Pettengill should be coming home or going out as he 
passed ! 

The doctor found a secluded pasture, near the woods that 
encircled the town, and there he sat him down, in the corner of 
a snake fence, to wait until some farmer or market gardener 
should pass by, to carry his message to the keeper. He had 
another message to send, too. He had several cases that 
must be attended to at once. Unless he could get away 
from his pachydermatous familiar. Dr. Pettengill must care 
for his cases that morning. It was hard — but what was he 
to do? 

Zenobia stood by his side, dividing her attention between 
the caresses she bestowed on him and the care she was obliged 
to take of her red cap, which was not tightly strapped on, 
and slipped in various directions at every movement of her 
gigantic head. She was unmistakably happy. From time 
to time she trumpeted cheerily. She plucked up tufts of 
grass, and offered them to the doctor. He refused them, and 
she ate them herself. Once he took a daisy from her, absent- 
mindedly, and she was so greatly pleased that she smashed 
his hat in her endeavors to pet him. The doctor was a kind- 
hearted man. He had to admit that Zenobia meant well. 
He patted her trunk, and made matters worse. Her elephan- 
tine ecstasy came near being the death of him. 

Still the farmer came not, nor the market gardener. Dr. 



ZENOBTA'S INFIDELITY 21 

Tibbitt began to believe that he had chosen a meadow that 
was too secluded. At last two boys appeared. After 
they had stared at him and at Zenobia for half an hour, one 
of them agreed to produce Dr. Pettengill and Zenobia's 
keeper for fifty cents. Dr. Pettengill was the first to arrive. 
He refused to come nearer than the farthest limit of the 
pasture. 

"Hello, doctor," he called out, "hear you've been seeing 
elephants. Want me to take your cases? Guess I can. 
Got a half hour free. Brought some bromide down for you, 
if you'd like to try it." 

To judge from his face, Zenobia was invisible. But his 
presence alarmed that sensitive animal. She crowded up 
close to the fence, and every time she flicked her skin to shake 
off the flies she endangered the equilibrium of the doctor, who 
was sitting on the top rail, for dignity's sake. He shouted 
his directions to his colleague, who shouted back professional 
criticisms. 

" Salicylate of soda for that old woman ? What's the mat- 
ter with salicylate of cinchonidia ? Don't want to kill her 
before you get out of this swamp, do you ? " 

Dr. Tibbitt was not a profane man, but at this moment 
he could not restrain himself. 

" D you .^ " he said, with such vigor that the elephant gave 

a convulsive start. The doctor felt his seat depart from under 
him — he was going — going into space for a brief moment, 
and then he scrambled up out of the soft mud of the cow- 
wallow back of the fence on which he had been sitting. 
Zenobia had backed against the fence. 

The keeper arrived soon after. He had only reached the 
meadow when Zenobia lifted her trunk in the air, emitted 
a mirthful toot, and struck out for the woods with the pic- 
turesque and cumbersome gallop of a mastodon pup. 

"Dern you,^^ said the keeper to Dr. Tibbitt, who was try- 



22 HENRY CUYLER BUNNER 

ing to fasten his collar, which had broken loose in his fall ; 
"if the bo3^s was here, and I hollered 'Hey, Rube !' — there 
wouldn't be enough left of yer to spread a plaster fer a baby's 
bile!" 

The doctor made himself look as decent as the situation 
allowed, and then he marched toward the town with the light 
of a firm resolve illuminating his face. The literature of 
his childhood had come to his aid. He remembered the 
unkind tailor who pricked the elephant's trunk. It seemed 
to him that the tailor was a rather good fellow. 

"If that elephant's disease is gratitude," thought the doc- 
tor, "I'll give her an antidote." 

He went to the drug store, and, as he went, he pulled out 
a blank pad and wrote down a prescription, from mere force 
of habit. It read thus : 

PESSELS & MORTON, 

Druggists, 

Commercial Block. Main Street, Sagawaug. 
PRESCRIPTIONS CAREFULLY COMPOUNDED. =®a 



When the druggist looked at it, he was taken short of 
breath. 

"What's this?" he asked — "a bombshell?" 




ZENOBIA'S INFIDELITY 



23 



"Put it up," said the doctor, "and don't talk so much." 
He lingered nervously on the druggist's steps, looking up and 
down the street. He had sent a boy to order the stableman 
to harness his gig. By and by, the druggist put his head out 
of the door. 

"I've got some asafetida pills," he said," that are kind o' 
tired, and half a pound of whale-oil soap that's higher 'n 
Haman — " 

"Put 'em in !" said the doctor, grimly, as he saw Zenobia 
coming in sight far down the street. 

She came up while the doctor was waiting for the bolus. 
Twenty-three boys were watching them, although it was only 
seven o'clock in the morning. 

"Down, Zenobia!" said the doctor, thoughtlessly, as he 
might have addressed a dog. He was talking with the drug- 
gist, and Zenobia was patting 
his ear with her trunk. Zenobia 
sank to her knees. The doctor 
did not notice her. She folded 
her trunk about him, lifted him 
to her back, rose with a heave 
and a sway to her feet, and 
started up the road. Xhe boys 
cheered. The doctor got off on 
the end of an elm-branch. His 
descent was watched from nine- 
teen second-story windows. 

His gig came to meet him at last, and he entered it and 
drove rapidly out of town, with Zenobia trotting contentedly 
behind him. As soon as he had passed Deacon Burgee's 
house, he drew rein, and Zenobia approached, while his 
perspiring mare stood on her hind legs. 

"Zenobia — pill !" said the doctor. 

As she had often done in her late illness, Zenobia opened her 




24 



HENRY CUYLER BUNNER 



mouth at the word of command, and swallowed the infernal 
bolus. Then they started up again, and the doctor headed 
for Zenobia's tent. 

But Zenobia's pace was sluggish. She had been dodging 
about the woods for two nights, and she was tired. When 
the doctor whipped up, she seized the buggy by any con- 
venient projection, and held it back. This damaged the 
buggy and frightened the horse ; but it accomplished Zeno- 
bia's end. It was eleven o'clock before Jake Bumgardner's 
''Half- Way-House" loomed up white, afar down the dusty 
road, and the doctor knew that his round-about way had at 
length brought him near to the field where the circus tent 
had been pitched. He drove on with a lighter heart in his 
bosom. He had not heard Zenobia behind him for some 
time. He did not know what had become of her, or what 
she was doing, but he learned later. 

The doctor had compounded a pill well calculated to upset 
Zenobia's stomach. That it would likewise give her a con- 

^ suming thirst he 

had not considered. 
But chernistry was 
doing its duty with- 
out regard to him. 
A thirst like a fur- 
nace burned within 
Zenobia. Capsicum 
and chloride of lime 
were doing their 
work. She gasped and groaned. She searched for water. 
She filled her trunk at a wayside trough and poured the 
contents into her mouth. Then she sucked up a puddle 
or two. Then she came to Bumgardner's, where a dozen 
kegs of lager beer and a keg of what passed at Bum- 
gardner's for gin stood on the sidewalk. Zenobia's circus 




ZENOBIA'S INFIDELITY 25 

experience had taught her what a water barrel meant. She 
appUed her knowledge. With her forefoot she deftly staved 
in the head of one keg after another, and with her trunk 
she drew up the beer and the gin, and delivered them to her 
stomach. If you think her taste at fault, remember the bolus. 
Bumgardner rushed out and assailed her with a bung- 
starter. She turned upon him and squirted lager beer over 
him until he was covered with an iridescent lather of foam 
from head to foot. Then she finished the kegs and went on 
her way to overtake the doctor. 

The doctor was speeding his mare merrily along, grateful 
for even a momentary relief from Zenobia's attentions, when, 
at one and the same time, he heard a heavy, uncertain thump- 
ing on the road behind him, and the quick patter of a trotter's 
hoofs on the road ahead of him. He glanced behind him first, 
and saw Zenobia. She swayed from side to side, more than 
was her wont. Her red cap was far down over her left eye. 
Her aspect was rakish, and her gait was unsteady. The 
doctor did not know it, but Zenobia was drunk. 

Zenobia was sick, but intoxication dominated her sickness. 
Even sulphide of calcium withdrew courteously before the 
might of beer and gin^ Rocking from side to side, reeling 
across the road and back, trumpeting in imbecile inexpres- 
sive tones, Zenobia advanced. 

The doctor looked forward. Tom Matson sat in his dog- 
cart, with Miss Bunker by his side. His horse had caught 
sight of Zenobia, and he was rearing high in air, and whinny- 
ing in terror. Before Tom could pull him down, he made a 
sudden break, overturned the dogcart, and flung Tom and 
Miss Minetta Bunker on a bank by the side of the road. It 
was a soft bank, well-grown with mint and stinging nettles, 
just above a creek. Tom had scarce landed before he was 
up and off, running hard across the fields. 



26 HENRY CUYLER BUNNER 

Miss Minetta rose and looked at him with fire in her eyes. 

''Well!" she said aloud, ''I'd like mother to see you 
now! " 

The doctor had jumped out of his gig and let his little 
mare go galloping up the road. He had his arm about Miss 
Minetta's waist when he turned to face his familiar demon — 
which may have accounted for the pluck in his face. 

But Zenobia was a hundred yards down the road, and she 
was utterly incapable of getting any farther. She trumpeted 
once or twice, then she wavered like a reed in the wind ; her 
legs weakened under her, and she sank on her side. Her red 
cap had slipped down, and she picked it up with her trunk, 
broke its band in a reckless swing that resembled the wave 
of jovial farewell, gave one titanic hiccup, and fell asleep by 
the roadside. 

An hour later. Dr. Tibbitt was driving toward Pelion, with 
Miss Bunker by his side. His horse had been stopped at 
the tollgate. He was driving with one hand. Perhaps he 
needed the other to show how they could have a summer- 
house in the garden that ran down to the river. 

But it was evening when Zenobia awoke to find her keeper 
sitting on her head. He jabbed a cotton hook firmly and 
decisively into her ear, and led her homeward down the road 
lit by the golden sunset. That was the end of Zenobia's 
infidelity. 

STUDY HINTS 
Study th,e spelling and meaning of these words : 



structure 


alleviate 


nasturtium 


adjust 


bondage 


endeavor 


submission 


extension 


gigantic 


incapable 


perplexed 


courteous 



ZENOBIA'S INFIDELITY 27 

Describe Sagawaug. At what point does the story begin to interest 
you? Is the boy natural when he brings the message? How does 
Zenobia show her gratitude at first? Later? Do you think her keeper 
was kind? Why do 3^ou think so ? Was the doctor kind ? Do you Hke 
the way the story ends ? What makes the reader have a certain affection 
for Zenobia? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR STUDYING AND WRITING A SHORT STORY 

(^ ) A story may begin in one of the following ways : with a descrip- 
tion of the scene, i.e. the setting; with a description of the chief char- 
acters ; with an incident ; with a conversation hekvcen or ahout the chief 
characters ; with a statement of the reason for the author's writing the 
story ; with a statement of the central idea of the story. Which method 
is used here? 

{B) Every story is told from the point of view of one of three people : 
an onlooker ; the person to whom the story happens ; some one who holds 
the place, so to speak, of Providence, i.e. who knows everything about the 
story and the characters. Which point of view is used here? 

Begin a story entitled "My First Circus," with a short description of 
the appearance of the town on '' circus day. " Then give a brief conversa- 
tion between yourself and some friend about going to the circus. Be 
sure to write only what you could see and know. Perhaps your chum 
was with you that day. If so, get him to write of your visit as he saw it, 
i.e. as an onlooker. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Tell a friend orally in a vigorous way without hesitation the story of 
Zenohid's Infidelity. Remember that success in the use of oral or written 
English depends on your being interested yourself. Keep the fixed 
determination to interest those who listen to you. 

Read Kipling's Toomai of the Elephants and tell the story. 
Tell the most interesting story you know of an elephant or of some other 
animal. 

Give the autobiography of a cat or a dog for twenty-four hours. 

The Gratitude of Animals. The Most Faithful Animal. 

My Favorite Animal. What My Pet Taught Me. 

A Ride on an Elephant. Can Animals Reason ? 



28 HENRY CUYLER BIJNNER 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Smith's Love Letters (from Short Sixes). Henry Cuyler Runner. 

The Tenor (from Short Sixes). Henry Cuyler Bunner. 

The Pitcher of Mignonette (Verse). Henry Cuyler Bunner. 

A Passion in the Desert (from Scenes of Military Life). Honor6 de 
Balzac. 

Moti Guj — Mutineer (from Lifers Handicap) . Rudard Kipling. 

Toomai of the Elephants (from Jungle Book, I). Rudyard Kipling. 

The Cat: The Doctor's Horse (from Understudies). M. E. Wilkins- 
Freeman. 

The Call of the Wild. Jack London. 

White Fang. Jack London. 

Johnny Bear (in Lives of the Hunted). Ernest Thompson Seton. 

Loho, the King of Currumpaw (in Wild Animals I Have Known). 
Ernest Thompson Seton. 

The Trail of the Sand Hill Stag. Ernest Thompson Seton. 

The Kindred of the Wild. Charles G. D. Roberts. 

The Training of Wild Animals. Frank Bostock. 

The Wilderness Hunter. Theodore Roosevelt. 

Huntiftg the Elephant in Africa. C. H. Stigand, 



THE LAW OF THE JUNGLE i 
RuDYARD Kipling 

Rudyard Kipling (1865- ), one of the most brilliant writers of the 
nineteenth century, was born in India. He began writing stories and 
poems when quite young for the Military Gazette in India. His stories 
of life in India, his Jungle Books , and his poem the Recessional have won 
for him world-wide reputation. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 568-576, 586. 

Knowles's Kipling Primer. 

Canby's The Short Story in English. 




<=s^ 



Just to give you an^idea of the immense variety of the 
Jungle Law, I have translated into verse (Baloo ^ always 
recited them in a sort of singsong) a few of the laws that apply 
to the wolves. There are, of course, hundreds and hundreds 
more, but these will do for specimens of the simpler rulings. 

Now this is the Law of the Jungle — as old and as true as the 

sky ; 
And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf 

that shall break it must die. 

1 From The Second Jungle Book. Used by special arrangement with Rudyard Kipling 
and the Century Company. 

2 The brown bear who taught the wolf cubs the Law of the Jungle. 

29 



30 RUDYARD KIPLING 

As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk the Law runneth 

forward and back — 
For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of 

the Wolf is the Pack. 

Wash daily from nose tip to tail tip ; drink deeply, but never 

too deep ; 
And remember the night is for hunting, and forget not the day 

is for sleep. 

The Jackal may follow the Tiger, but, Cub, when thy whiskers 

are grown. 
Remember the Wolf is a hunter — go forth and get food of 

thine own. 

Keep peace with the Lords of the Jungle — the Tiger, the 

Panther, the Bear ; 
And trouble not Hathi ^ the Silent, and mock not the Boar 

in his lair. 

When Pack meets with Pack in the Jungle, and neither will 

go from the trail, 
Lie down till the leaders have spoken — it may be fair words 

shall prevail. 

When ye fight with a Wolf of the Pack, ye must fight him 
alone and afar, 

Lest others take part in the quarrel, and the Pack be dimin- 
ished by war. 

The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, and where he has made him 

his home, 
Not even the Head Wolf may enter, not even the Council 

may come. 

1 The wild elephant. 



THE LAW OF THE JUNGLE 31 

The Lair of the Wolf is his refuge, but where he has digged it 

too plain, 
The Council shall send him a message, and so he shall change 

it again. 

If ye kill before midnight, be silent, and wake not the woods 

with your bay, 
Lest ye frighten the deer from the crops, and the brothers 

go empty away. 

Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs 

as they need, and ye can ; 
But kill not for pleasure of killing, and seven times never kill 

Man. 

If ye plunder his Kill from a weaker, devour not all in thy 

pride ; 
Pack-Right is the right of the meanest ; so leave him the head 

and the hide. 

The Kill of the Pack is the meat of the Pack. Ye must eat 

where it lies ; 
And no one may carry away of that meat to his lair, or he 

dies. 

The Kill of the Wolf is the meat of the Wolf. He may do 

what he will. 
But, till he has given permission, the Pack may not eat of 

that Kill. 

Cub-Right is the right of the Yearling. From all of his Pack 

he may claim 
Full-gorge when the kille^ has eaten ; and none may refuse 

him the same. 



32 RUDYARD KIPLING 

Lair-Right is the right of the Mother. From all of her year 

she may claim 
One haunch of each kill for her litter, and none may deny her 

the same. 

Cave- Right is the right of the Father — to hunt by himself 

for his own : 
He is freed of all calls to the Pack ; he is judged by the Council 

alone. 

Because of his age and his cunning, because of his grip and 

his paw, 
In all that the Law leaveth open, the word of the Head Wolf 

is Law. 

Now these are the Laws of the Jungle, and many and mighty are 

they; 
But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the 

hump is — Obey ! 

STUDY HINTS 

What constitutes good citizenship among wolves? Among men? 
What are the individual rights of the wolf ? The pack rights ? How 
does the pack protect its young? Does this affect its own existence? 
Upon what foundation do the laws of the jungle rest? The laws of 
man? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Gunga Din. Rudyard Kipling, 

Oonts! Rudyard Kipling. 

The Overland Mail. Rudyard Kipling. 

Tommy. Rudyard Kipling. 

The Ballad of East and West. Rudyard Kipling. 

Recessional. Rudyard Kipling. 

The Jungle Books. Rudyard Kipling. 



GULLIVER'S FIRST DINNER AT BROBDINGNAG 



Jonathan Swift ^ 

Jonathan Swift (1667-1745), a clergyman and great eighteenth- 
century prose writer, was born of English parents in Dublin. Gulliver's 
Travels (1726), his best-known book, is interesting to young and old, for 
the hero has remarkable experiences, especially in Lilliput, where the 
men are six inches tall, and in Brobdingnag, where they grow to a height 
of sixty feet. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 276-284, 302. 

Leslie Stephen's Swift. 

Thackeray's English Humorists (Swift) . 

It was about twelve at noon, and a servant brought in 
dinner. It was only one substantial dish of meat (fit for the 
plain condition of an husband- 
man) in a dish of about four and 
twenty feet diameter. The com- 
pany were the farmer and his 
wife, three children, and an old 
grandmother : when they were sat 
down, the farmer placed me at 
some distance from him on the 
table, which was thirty feet high 
from the floor. I was in a terrible 
fright, and kept as far as I could 
from the edge for fear of falling. 
The wife minced a bit of meat, 
then crumbled some bread on a 
trencher, and placed it before me. I made her a low bow, 
took out my knife and fork, and fell to eat, which gave them 

H. & B. READINGS — 3 33 




34 JONATHAN SWIFT 

exceeding delight. The mistress sent her maid for a small 
dram-cup, which held about two gallons, and filled it with 
drink ; I took up the vessel with much difficulty in both 
hands, and in a most respectful manner drank her ladyship's 
health, expressing the words as loud as I could in English, 
which made the company laugh so heartily, that I was almost 
deafened w^th the noise. This liquor tasted like a small cider, 
and was not unpleasant. Then the master made me a sign to 
come to his trencher-side ; but as I walked on the table, being 
in great surprise all the time, as the indulgent reader will easily 
conceive and excuse, I happened to stumble against a crust, 
and fell flat on my face, but received no hurt. I got up 
immediately, and observing the good people to be in much 
concern, I took my hat (which I held under my arm out of good 
manners) and, waving it over my head, made three hurrahs, 
to show I had got no mischief by my fall. But advancing 
forwards toward my master (as I shall henceforth call him) 
his youngest son who sat next him, an arch boy of about ten 
years old, took me up by the legs, and held me so high in the 
air, that I trembled in every limb ; but his father snatched me 
from him, and at the same time gave him such a box on the 
left ear, as would have felled an European troop of horses 
to the earth, ordering him to be taken from the table. But 
being afraid the boy might owe me a spite, and well re- 
membering how mischievous all children among us natu- 
rally are to sparrows, rabbits, young kittens, and puppy 
dogs, I fell on my knees, and pointing to the boy made 
my master to understand, as well as I could, that I desired 
his son might be pardoned. The father complied, and the 
lad took his seat again ; whereupon I went to him and kissed 
his hand, which my master took, and made him stroke me 
gently with it. 

In the midst of dinner, my mistress's favorite cat leaped 
into her lap. I heard a noise behind me like that of a dozen 



GULLIVER'S FIRST DINNER AT BROBDINGNAG 35 

stocking weavers at work ; and, turning my head, I found it 
proceeded from the purring of that animal, who seemed to be 
three times larger than an ox, as I computed by the view of 
her head and one of her paws, while her mistress was feeding 
and stroking her. The fierceness of this creature's counte- 
nance altogether discomposed me; though I stood at the 
farther end of the table, above fifty feet off ; and although my 
mistress held her fast, for fear she might give a spring, and 
seize me in her talons. But it happened there was no danger ; 
for the cat took not the least notice of me, when my master 
placed me wdthin three yards of her. And as I have been 
always told, and found true by experience in my travels, that 
flying or discovering fear before a fierce animal is a certain 
way to make it pursue or attack you, so I resolved in this 
dangerous juncture to show no manner of concern. I walked 
with intrepidity five or six times before the very head of the 
cat, and came within half a yard of her ; whereupon she drew 
herself back, as if she were more afraid of me. 

I had less apprehension concerning the dogs, whereof three 
or four came into the room, as it is usual in farmers' houses ; 
one of which was a mastiff equal in bulk to four elephants, 
and a greyhound somewhat taller than the mastiff, but not 
so large. 

When dinner was almost done, the nurse came in with a 
child of a year old in her arms, who immediately spied me, 
and began a squall, that you might have heard from London- 
Bridge to Chelsea, after the awful oratory of infants to get 
me for a plaything. The mother out of pure indulgence took 
me up, and put me toward the child, who presently seized 
me by the middle, and got my head into his mouth, where I 
roared so loud that the urchin was frightened, and let me 
drop, and I should infallibly have broken my neck, if the 
mother had not held her apron under me. 



36 JONATHAN SWIFT 

STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

substantial mischief countenance 

indulgent mischievous intrepidity 

diameter urchin mastiff 

experience break, broke, broken proceed 

How does the account of Gulliver begin? (See A, B,p. 27.) How did 
Gulliver conceal his terror ? Try to imagine how immense everything 
seemed to him. How did he appear to the family ? Why did they laugh 
when he drank to the lady's health? Was he wise to ask the father to 
pardon the boy ? In what ways did he show his courage ? His polite- 
ness? Did the baby act as babies usually act? Does the conclusion 
deepen your realization of the size of Gulliver as compared with the 
B robdingnagians ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Note the suggestions given in {A, B) on page 27 and write a story as 
if you were the Brobdingnagian small boy telling a boy friend your expe- 
rience with Gulliver. Relate an imaginary account of yourself as a man of 
normal size traveling among people six inches high. Have a dwarf tell 
the same story from his own point of view. 

Use one of the following topics for a theme : 

Gulliver's First Dinner at Brobdingnag. 

An Experience with a Giant. 

The Adventures of Hercules. 

The Experience of Ulysses with the Cyclops. 

Adventures in Search of the Golden Fleece. 

An Adventure of a Knight at King Arthur's Court. 

The Story of Jack the Giant Killer. 

The Story of Red Riding Hood. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

A Voyage to Lilliput (from Gulliver's Travels, first four chapters). 
Jonathan Swift. 



GULLIVER'S FIRST DINNER AT BROBDINGNAG 37 

A Voyage to Brohdingnag (from Gulliver^ s Travels, first three chap- 
ters). Jonathan Swift. 

Arabian Nights^ Entcrlainmenis : History of Aladdin, or The Wonderful 
Lamp; History of Sinbad, the Sailor; History of AH Baba and the Forty 
Robbers; History of the Enchanted Horse. 

Legends Every Child Should Know. Hamilton W. Mabie. 

Robinson Crusoe. Daniel Defoe. 

Greek Heroes. Charles Kingsley. 

The Odyssey (particularly Ulysses's adventure with the Cyclops). 
George Herbert Palmer (translation). 



GARDENING i 

Charles Dudley Warner 

Charles Dudley Warner (i 829-1900) was born in Plainfield, Massa- 
chusetts. He was at one time editor of Harper's Magazine, also the au- 
thor of many delightful essays and books of travel. See also : 

Mrs. James T. Fields's Charles Dudley Warner. 

Vedder's American Writers of To-day (Warner). 

I BELIEVE in the intellectual, if not the moral, qualities of 
vegetables, and especially weeds. There was a worthless 
vine that (or who) started up about midway between a grape 
trellis and a row of bean poles, some three feet from each, 
but a Httle nearer the trelHs. When it came out of the ground, 
it looked around to see what it should do. The trelHs was 
already occupied. The bean pole was empty. There was 
evidently a little the best chance of light, air, and sole pro- 
prietorship on the pole. And the vine started for the pole, 
and began to climb it with determination. Here was as 
distinct an act of choice, of reason, as a boy exercises when he 
goes into a forest, and, looking about, decides which tree he 
will climb. And, besides, how did the vine know enough to 
travel in exactly the right direction, three feet, to find what it 
wanted ? This is intellect. The weeds, on the other hand, 
have hateful moral qualities. To cut down a weed is, there- 
fore, to do a moral action. I feel as if I were destroying sin. 
My hoe becomes an instrument of retributive justice. I am 
an apostle of Nature. This view of the matter lends a dig- 

1 From My Summer in a Garden, copyright 1870 and 1885, by Houghton Miflain 
Company. This selection is used by permission of, and by arrangement with, Houghton 
MifBin Company, authorized publishers of his works. 

38 



GARDENING 39 

nity to the art of hoeing which nothing else does, and Hfts it 
into the region of ethics. Hoeing becomes, not a pastime, 
but a duty. And you get to regard it so, as the days and the 
weeds lengthen. 

Observation. — Nevertheless, what a man needs in garden- 
ing is a cast-iron back, with a hinge in it. The hoe is an 
ingenious instrument, calculated to call out a great deal of 
strength at a great disadvantage. 

The striped bug has come, the saddest of the year. He is 
a moral double-ender, ironclad at that. He is unpleasant 
in two ways. He burrows in the ground so that you cannot 
find him, and he flies away so that you cannot catch him. 
He is rather handsome, as bugs go, but utterly dastardly, 
in that he gnaws the stem of the plant close to the ground, and 
ruins it without any apparent advantage to himself. I find 
him on the hills of cucumbers (perhaps it will be a cholera- 
year, and we shall not want any), the squashes (small loss), 
and melons (which never ripen). The best way to deal with 
the striped bug is to sit down by the hills, and patiently 
watch for him. If you are spry, you can annoy him. This, 
however, takes time. It takes all day and part of the night. 
For he flieth in darkness, and wasteth at noonday. If you 
get up before the dew is Q&. the plants, — it goes off very early, 
— you can sprinkle soot on the plant (soot is my panacea ; 
if I can get the disease of a plant reduced to the necessity of 
soot, I am all right) ; and soot is unpleasant to the bug. 
But the best thing to do is to set a toad to catch the bugs. 
The toad at once establishes the most intimate relations with 
the bug. It is a pleasure to see such unity among the lower 
animals. The difficulty is to make the toad stay and watch 
the hill. If you know your toad it is all right. If you do not, 
you must build a tight fence round the plants, which the toad 
cannot jump over. This, however, introduces a new element. 
I find that I have a zoological garden on my hands, . . , 



40 CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER 

There is another subject which is forced upon my notice. 
I Hke neighbors, and I Uke chickens ; but I do not think they 
ought to be united near a garden. Neighbors' hens in your 
garden are an annoyance. Even if they did not scratch up 
the corn, and peck the strawberries, and eat the tomatoes, 
it is not pleasant to see them straddUng about in their jerky, 
high-stepping, speculative manner, picking inquisitively 
here and there. It is of no use to tell the neighbor that his 
hens eat your tomatoes : it makes no impression on him, for 
the tomatoes are not his. The best way is to casually remark 
to him that he has a fine lot of chickens, pretty well grown, 
and that you like spring chickens broiled. He will take them 
away at once. 

The neighbors' small children are also out of place in your 
garden, in strawberry and currant time. I hope I appreciate 
the value of children. We should soon come to nothing with- 
out them, though the Shakers have the best gardens in the 
world. Without them the common school would languish. 
But the problem is, what to do with them in a garden. For 
they are not good to eat, and there is a law against making 
away with them. The law is not very well enforced, it is 
true; for people do thin them out with constant dosing, 
paregoric and soothing sirups, and scanty clothing. But I, 
for one, feel that it would not be right, aside from the law, 
to take the Hfe even of the smallest child, for the sake of a 
little fruit, more or less, in the garden. I may be wrong; 
but these are my sentiments, and I am not ashamed of them. 
My plan would be to put them into Sunday schools more 
thoroughly, and to give the Sunday schools an agricultural 
turn; teaching the children the sacredness of neighbors' 
vegetables. I think that our Sunday schools do not suffi- 
ciently impress upon children the danger, from snakes and 
otherwise, of going into the neighbors' gardens. 



GARDENING 41 

STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

proprietor panacea enforced 

annoyance agricultural dosing 

inquisitively disadvantage pastime 

When, according to the author, does hoeing become the greatest 
duty ? How does he console himself for the ravages of the striped bug ? 
When he says you can "annoy" the bug, what does he imply? Is the 
description of the chickens natural ? Does he say much about gardening 
as one usually thinks of the term ? What is the most noticeable quality 
in this selection ? Is it interesting ? Is it lively ? Is it amusing ? Find 
several illustrations of the most noticeable quality. Is it more marked 
or less so as the selection draws to a close ? Do you not feel that Warner 
has been talking to you ? Has he any surprising turns in his thought ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Tell in the same informal way some experience like those suggested 
below, jotting down your points and following Warner's plan. 

How to Plant Potatoes. How to Make an Unsightly Lot 

Making a Garden, Attractive, 

Our Neighbor's Chickens. Human Traits in Chickens. 

A Window Box. The Change in the Garden after 

The Perversity of Weeds, a Rain. 

The Biography of a Toad. The Joys and Troubles of a Flower 

Some of Burbank's Experiments, Garden. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Being a Boy. Charles Dudley Warner. 

A-Hunting of the Deer. Charles Dudley Warner. 

Mary^s Garden arid How It Grew. Frances Duncan. 

A Self -Supporting Home. Kate V. St. Maur. 

The Green Things Growing (verse). Dinah Mulock Craik. 

The Story of a Bad Boy. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 

Penrod. Booth Tarkington. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Selections from Warner's My Summer in a Garden, and Backlog Studies; 
Adventures in Contentment, by David Grayson; Markham's The Man 
with the Hoc; Dobson's A Garden Song. 



THE RESCUE OF THE SHEEP i 
Richard D. Blackmore 

Richard D, Blackmore (1825-1900) was of English birth. He has 
celebrated the beautiful Devonshire country of England in many stories, 
of which his masterpiece is Lorna Doone. John Ridd, who is represented 
as telling this story, really lived in the seventeenth century. He was so 
famous for his great size and power that stories of his feats of strength 
are told in Devonshire to-day. See also: 

Frederick J. Snells's The Blackmore Country. 

It must have snowed most wonderfully to have made that 
depth of covering in about eight hours. For one of Master 
Stickles's men, who had been out all night, said that no snow 
began to fall until nearly midnight. And here it was, block- 
ing up the doors, stopping the ways and the watercourses, 
and making it very much worse to walk than in a saw pit 
newly used. However, we trudged along in a line ; I first, 
and the other men after me ; trying to keep my track, but 
finding legs and strength not up to it. Most of all, John Fry 
was groaning ; certain that his time was come, and sending 
messages to his wife, and blessings to his children. For all 
this time it was snowing harder than it ever had snowed before, 
so far as a man might guess at it ; and the leaden depth of the 
sky came down, like a mine turned upside down on us. Not 
that the flakes were so very large; for I have seen much 
larger flakes in a shower of March, while sowing peas ; but 
that there was no room between them, neither any relaxing, 
nor any change of direction. 

Watch, like a good and faithful dog, followed us very cheer- 

1 From Lorna Doone (1869). 
42 



THE RESCUE OF THE SHEEP 43 

fully, leaping out of the depth, which took him over his back 
and ears already, even in the level places ; while in the drifts 
he might have sunk to any distance out of sight, and never 
found his way up again. However, we helped him now and 
then, especially through the gaps and gateways ; and so 
after a deal of floundering, some laughter, and a little swear- 
ing, we came all safe to the lower meadows, where most of our 
flock was hurdled. 

But behold, there was no flock at all ! None, I mean, to 
be seen anywhere; only at one corner of the field, by the 
eastern end, where the snow drove in, a great white billow, 
as high as a barn and as broad as a house. This great drift 
was rolling and curling beneath the violent blast, tufting and 
combing with rustling swirls, and carved (as in patterns of 
cornice) where the grooving chisel of the wind swept round. 
Ever and again, the tempest snatched little whiffs from the 
channeled edges, twirled them round, and made them dance 
over the chine of the monster pile, then let them lie like 
herring bones, or the seams of sand where the tide had been. 
And all the while from the smothering sky, more and more 
fiercely at every blast, came the pelting pitiless arrows, 
winged with murky white, and pointed with the barbs of 
frost. 

But although, for people who had no sheep, the sight was a 
very fine one (so far at least as the weather permitted any 
sight at all) ; yet for us, with our flock beneath it, this great 
mount had but little charm. Watch began to scratch at once, 
and to howl along the sides of it; he knew that his charge 
was buried there, and his business taken from him. But 
we four men set to in earnest, digging with all our might and 
main, shoveling away at the great white pile, and fetching 
it into the meadow. Each man made for himself a cave, 
scooping at the soft cold flux, which slid upon him at every 
stroke, and throwing it out behind him, in piles of castled 



44 RICHARD D. BLACKMORE 

fancy. At last we drove our tunnels in (for we worked indeed 
for the lives of us), and all converging towards the middle, 
held our tools and listened. 

The other men heard nothing at all ; or declared that they 
heard nothing, being anxious now to abandon the matter, 
because of the chill in their feet and knees. But I said, 
" Go, if you choose, all of you. I will work it out by myself, 
you pie crusts": and upon that they gripped their shovels, 
being more or less of Englishmen ; and the least drop of 
English blood is worth the best of any other, when it comes 
to lasting out. 

But before we began again, I laid my head well into the 
chamber; and there I heard a faint ''ma-a-ah," coming 
through some ells of snow, like a plaintive buried hope, or a 
last appeal. I shouted aloud to cheer him up, for I knew what 
sheep it was, to wit the most valiant of all the wethers, who 
had met me when I came home from London, and been so 
glad to see me. And then we all fell to again ; and very soon 
we hauled him out. Watch took charge of him at once, with 
an air of the noblest patronage, lying on his frozen fleece, 
and licking all his face and feet, to restore his warmth to him. 
Then fighting Tom jumped up at once, and made a little 
butt at Watch, as if nothing had ever ailed him, and then 
set off to a shallow place, and looked for something to 
nibble at. 

Farther in, and close under the bank, where they had 
huddled themselves for warmth, we found all the rest of the 
poor sheep packed as closely as if they were in a great pie. 
It was strange to observe how their vapor, and breath, and 
the moisture exuding from their wool had scooped, as it were, 
a coved room for them, lined with a ribbing of deep yellow 
snow. Also the churned snow beneath their feet was as 
yellow as gamboge. Two or three of the weaklier hoggets 
were dead, from want of air, and from pressure ; but more 



THE RESCUE OF THE SHEEP 



45 



than threescore were as Hvely as ever ; though cramped and 
stiff for a little while. 

"However shall us get 'em home?" John Fry asked in 
great dismay, when we had cleared about a dozen of them ; 
which we were forced to do very carefully, so as not to fetch 
the roof down. " No manner of maning to draive 'un, drough 
all they girt driftnesses." 

"You see to this place, John," I replied, as we leaned on 
our shovels a moment, and the sheep came rubbing round 
us. "Let no more of them out for the present; they are 
better where they be. Watch, here boy, keep them !" 

Watch came, with his little scut of a tail cocked as sharp 
as duty ; and I set him at the narrow mouth of the great snow 
antre. All the sheep sidled away, and got closer, that the 
other sheep might be bitten first, as the foolish things imagine : 
whereas no good sheep dog 
even so much as lips a 
sheep to turn it. 

Then of the outer sheep 
(all now snowed and frizzled 
like a lawyer's wig) I took 
the two finest and heaviest, 
and with one beneath my 
right arm, and the other 
beneath my left, I went 
straight home to the upper 
sheppy, and set them in- 
side, and fastened them. 
Sixty and six I took home 
in that way, two at a time 

on each journey; and the work grew harder and harder 
each time, as the drifts of the snow were deepening. No 
other man should meddle with them : I was resolved to 
try my strength against the strength of the elements ; and 




46 RICHARD D. BLACKMORE 

try it I did, ay and proved it. A certain fierce delight 
burned in me, as the struggle grew harder ; but rather would 
I die than yield ; and at last I finished it. People talk of it 
to this day : but none can tell what the labor was, who have 
not felt that snow and wind. 

Of the sheep upon the mountain, and the sheep upon the 
western farm, and the cattle on the upper burrows, scarcely 
one in ten was saved; do what we would for them. And 
this was not through any neglect (now that our wits were 
sharpened), but from the pure impossibility of finding them 
at all. That great snow never ceased a moment for three 
days and nights. 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

floundering tunnel yield 

chisel plaintive impossibility 

pitiless patronage elements 

neglect shovel , pressure 

This account is given by John Ridd, the hero of the book. When he 
describes the snow, does he begin with its appearance, or its effect? 
At what point does the storm seem fiercest? Did John Ridd see any 
beauty in the mound of snow? What plan did he and his companions 
follow to reach the sheep ? Why does he call the other men "pie crusts " ? 
How do you know that Watch was intelligent ? Do you understand what 
John Ridd meant by "a certain fierce delight" burning in him? Did 
John Fry feel it? Did he work for the same reason as John Ridd? 
Note the language of John Fry. Why does the writer devote so much 
space to describing the snow ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Do you feel anxious about the sheep? Do you wonder where they 
are? Whether they are alive? How, if found, they can be taken to a 
safe place? This feeling of interest, expectation, sometimes of excite- 
ment, is called suspense. The point of greatest suspense is called the 



THE RESCUE OF THE SHEEP 47 

climax. Short stories usually end very quickly after the climax is 
reached. Where is the climax of this stor}^ ? You have finally conquered 
some difficult task or met with some adventure. Describe the different 
stages of your experience. Try to make each difficulty a little greater, 
a little more interesting than the preceding one. Which of the following 
subjects would make the best title for your account? 

Caught in a Storm. A Snow Fort. 

How to Make a Sand Fort. How We Made a Snow Man. 

How Streets are Cleaned. A Remarkable Feat. 

After a Snow Storm. My First Hay Ride. 

My First Sleigh Ride. How I Finally Succeeded. 

What Causes the Snow, 

Describe the snow to some one who has never seen it, (a) its appear- 
ance, (b) its effect. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Lorna Doone. Richard D. Blackmore. 

Bob, Son of Battle. Alfred OUivant, 

Stickeen : The Story of My Dog. John Muir. 

Grayfriars Bobby. Eleanor Atkinson. 

Rab and his Friends. Dr. John Brown. 

A Boy I Knew and Four Dogs. Laurence Hutton. 

A Dog of Flanders. De la Ramee. 

A Dog's Tale. S. L. Clemens. 

The Bar Sinister. Richard^Harding Davis. 

Goliath (from Two Bites at a Cherry). Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 

To Flush, My Dog (verse). Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 

The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come. John Fox, Jr. 

The Animal Story Book. Andrew Lang. 



THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD i 

Margaret Steele Anderson 

Margaret Steele Anderson lives in her birthplace, Louisville, Ken- 
tucky. She is a lecturer on art, a writer of books on that subject, a 
literary critic, and the author of a volume of exquisite verse entitled 
The Flame in the Wind (1913). See also : 

Townsend's Kentucky in American Letters^ pp. 318-320. 

"Oh, was it on that awful road, 

The way of death, you came?" ^ 
"It was a little road," he said, 

"I never knew its name." 

"Is it not rough along that road?" 

"I cannot tell," said he, 
"Up to your gate, in her two arms. 

My mother carried me. 

"And will you show me Christ?" he said, 

"And must we seek Him far?" 
"That is our Lord, with children round. 

Where little bluebells are." 

"Why, so my mother sits at night. 

When all the lights are dim ! 
Oh, would He mind — would it be right — 

If I should sit by Him?" 

1 Copyright, 191 3, by Margaret Steele Anderson. This poem is used by special arrange- 
ment with the author. 

2 In the first two lines, the angel addresses the child, asking if he came to heaven by 
"that awful road" of death. Then follows the reply of the child, referred to as "he." 

48 



THE ANGEL AND THE CHILD 49 



STUDY HINTS 

What beautiful thought runs through the entire poem? Why did the 
child feel so much at home ? 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

We are Seven. William Wordsworth. 

Little Lamb. William Blake. 

/ remember, I remember. Thomas Hood. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

The Fighting Weak, Habit, The Trees from The Flame in the Wind, 
by Margaret Steele Anderson; The Night, The Chimney-Sweeper, On 
Another's Sorrow, The Land of Dreams, by William Blake; and parts of 
Dante Gabriel Rossetti's The Blessed Damosel. 



H. & B. READINGS — 4 



HEREWARD'S ADVENTURE WITH THE WHITE 

BEARi 

Charles Kingsley 

Charles Kingsley (1819-1875), born in Devonshire, England, was both 
clergyman and teacher. He held many responsible positions, among 
them that of teacher of English literature at Queen's College, London, 
and later of history at Oxford. One of his best-known books is West- 
ward Ho! which is, like Hereward the Wake, an historical novel. Perhaps 
his most widely read books to-day are Water Babies and Greek Heroes. 
He gives very vivid pictures of English history and customs. See also : 

Letters and Memories of his Life, edited by his wife. 

Gilbert of Ghent, who owned many a fair manor in 
Lincolnshire, heard that Hereward ^ was outlawed, and sent 
for him, having, it would seem, some connection with his 
father. And there they lived, doubtless happily enough, 
fighting Celts and hunting deer, so that as yet the pains and 
penalties of exile did not press very hardly upon him. The 
handsome, petulant, good-humored lad had become in a few 
weeks the darling of Gilbert's ladies, and the envy of all his 
knights and gentlemen. 

Hereward the singer, harp player, dancer, Hereward the 
rider and hunter, was in all mouths : but he himself was 
discontented as having as yet fallen in with no adventure 
worthy of a man ; and he looked curiously and longingly at 
the menagerie of wild beasts enclosed in strong wooden cages, 
which Gilbert kept in one corner of the great courtyard, not 
for any scientific purposes, but to try with them, at Christ- 

1 From Hereward the Wake (1866). 

* Hereward was an English hero living in the eleventh century. 

SO 



ADVENTURE WITH THE WHITE BEAR 51 

mas, Easter, and Whitsuntide, the mettle of the young 
gentlemen who were candidates for the honor of knighthood. 
But after looking over the bulls and stags, wolves and bears, 
Hereward settled it in his mind that there was none worthy 
of his steel, save one huge white bear, whom no man had yet 
dared to face, and whom Hereward, indeed, had never seen, 
hidden as he was all day in the old oven-shaped Pict's house 
of stone, which had been turned into his den. There was a 
mystery about the uncanny brute which charmed Hereward. 
He was said to be half human, perhaps wholly human; to 
be a son of the Fairy Bear, near kinsman, if not brother, uncle 
or cousin, of Siward Digre himself. He had, like his fairy 
father, iron claws ; he had human intellect, and understood 
human speech, and the arts of war, — at least so all in the 
palace believed, and not as absurdly as at first sight seems. 

For the brown bear, and much more the white, was, among 
the Northern nations, in himself a creature magical and 
superhuman. "He is God's dog," whispered the Lapp, and 
called him ''the old man in the fur cloak," afraid to use his 
right name, even inside the tent, for fear of his overhearing 
and avenging the insult. ''He has twelve men's strength, 
and eleven men's wit," sang the Norseman, and prided him- 
self accordingly, hke a true Norseman, on outwitting and 
slaying an enchanted monster. 

Terrible was the brown bear ; but more terrible " the white 
sea-deer," as the Saxons called him; "the whale's bane," 
"the seal's dread," "the rider of the iceberg," "the sailor 
of the floe," who ranged for his prey under the six months' 
night. To slay him was a feat worthy of Beowulf's ^ self ; 
and the greatest wonder, perhaps, among all the wealth of 
Crowland, was the twelve white bearskins which lay before 

1 An English hero living probably in the eighth century. His character and exploits- 
have been celebrated in the greatest Anglo-Saxon poem, Beowulf. It is one of the great 
epics of the world. 



52 CHARLES KINGSLEY 

the altars, the gift of the great Canute. How Gilbert had 
obtained his white bear, and why he kept him there in 
durance vile, was a mystery over which men shook their 
heads. Again and again Hereward asked his host to let him 
try his strength against the monster of the North. Again 
and again the shrieks of the ladies, and Gilbert's own pity for 
the stripling youth, brought a refusal. But Hereward settled 
it in his heart, nevertheless, that somehow or other, when 
Christmas time came round, he would extract from Gilbert, 
drunk or sober, leave to fight that bear ; and then either make 
himself a name, or die like a man. 

Meanwhile Hereward made a friend. Among all the 
ladies of Gilbert's household, however kind they were inclined 
to be to him, he took a fancy only to one — a little girl of ten 
years old. Alftruda was her name. He liked to amuse him- 
self with this child, without as he fancied any danger of 
falling in love; for already his dreams of love were of the 
highest and most fantastic ; and an Emir's ^ daughter, or a 
princess of Constantinople, was the very lowest game at which 
he meant to fly. Alftruda was beautiful, too, exceedingly, 
and precocious, and it may be, vain enough to repay his 
attentions in good earnest. Moreover she was English, as 
he was, and royal likewise. Between the English lad then 
and the English maiden grew up in a few weeks an innocent 
friendship, which had almost become more than friendship, 
through the intervention of the Fairy Bear. 

For as Hereward was coming in one afternoon from hunt- 
ing, hawk on fist, with Martin Lightfoot trotting behind, 
crane and heron, duck and hare, slung over his shoulder, 
on reaching the courtyard gates he was aware of screams 
and shouts within, tumult and terror among man and 
beast. Hereward tried to force his horse in at the gate. 
The beast stopped and turned, snorting with fear; and no 

1 A ruling prince among the Arabs. 



ADVENTURE WITH THE WHITE BEAR 53 

wonder ; for in the midst of the courtyard stood the Fairy 
Bear ; with his white mane bristled up till he seemed twice as 
big as any of the sober brown bears which Hereward yet had 
seen, his long snake neck and cruel visage wreathing about 
in search of prey. A dead horse, its back broken by a single 
blow of the paw, and two or three writhing dogs, showed that 
the beast had turned (like too many of his human kindred 
in those days) "Berserker."^ The courtyard was utterly 
empty ; but from the ladies' bower came shrieks and shouts, 
not only of women but of men ; and knocking at the bower 
door, adding her screams to those inside, was a little white 
figure, which Hereward recognized as Alftruda's. They had 
barricaded themselves inside, leaving the child out ; and now 
dared not open the door, as the bear swung and rolled towards 
it, looking savagely right and left for a fresh victim. 

Hereward leaped from his horse, and drawing his sword, 
rushed forward with a shout which made the bear turn 
round. 

He looked once backjit the child; then round again at 
Hereward; and, making up his mind to take the largest 
morsel first, made straight at him with a growl which there 
was no mistaking. 

He was within two paces ; then he rose on his hind legs, a 
head and shoulders taller than Hereward, and lifted the 
iron talons high in the air. Hereward knew that there was 
but one spot at which to strike ; and he struck true and strong, 
before the iron paw could fall, right on the muzzle of the 
monster. 

He heard the dull crash of the steel ; he felt the sword 
jammed tight. He shut his eyes for an instant, fearing lest, 
as in dreams, his blow had come to naught ; lest his sword had 
turned aside, or melted like water in his hand, and the next 

1 At first a warrior who wore a bearskin shirt ; later from his fierceness the term grew 
to represent a very fierce warrior of Scandinavia. 



54 CTIyVRLES KINGSLEY 

moment find him crushed to the earth, bUnded and stunned. 
Something tugged at his sword. He opened his eyes and 
saw the huge carcass bend, reel, roll slowly over to one side, 
dead, tearing out of his hand the sword, which was firmly 
fixed into the skull. 

Hereward stood awhile staring at the beast like a man 
astonished at what he himself had done. He had had his 
first adventure, and he had conquered. He was now a 
champion in his own right — a hero of the heroes — one 
who might take rank, if he went on, beside Beowulf or Harold 
Hardraade.^ He had done this deed. What was there 
after this which he might not do ? And he stood there in the 
fullness of his pride, defiant of earth and heaven, while in his 
heart arose the thought of that old Viking who cried, in the 
pride of his godlessness, ''I never on earth met him whom I 
feared, and why should I fear him in heaven ? If I met Odin ^ 
I would fight with Odin. If Odin were the stronger he would 
slay me; if I were the stronger I would slay him." There 
he stood staring, and dreaming over renown to come, a true 
pattern of the half-savage hero of those rough times, capable 
of all vices except cowardice, and capable too of all virtues 
save humility. 

"Do you not see," said Martin Lightfoot's voice close by, 
"that there is a fair lady trying to thank you, while you are 
so rude or so proud that you will not vouchsafe her one 
look?" 

It was true. Little Alftruda had been cHnging to him for 
five minutes past. He took the child up in his arms and 
kissed her with pure kisses, which for the moment softened 
his hard heart ; then, setting her down, he turned to Martin. 

"I have done it, Martin." 

1 Harold Hardraade meant Harold the hard-headed, the stern. He was king of Nor- 
way in the eleventh century . 

2 The chief Norse god. 



ADVENTURE WITH THE WHITE BEAR 55 

''Yes, you have done it; I spied you. What will the old 
folks at home say to this?" 

"What care I?" 

Martin Lightfoot shook his head and drew out his knife. 

"What is that for?" said Hereward. 

"When the master kills the game, the knave can but skin 
it. We may sleep warm under this fur in many a cold night 
by the sea and moor." 

"Nay," said Hereward laughing, "when the master kills 
the game, he must first carry it home. Let us take him and 
set him up against the bower door there, to astonish the 
brave knights inside." And stooping down he attempted to 
lift the huge carcass ; but in vain. At last, with Martin's 
help, he got it fairly on his shoulders, and the two dragged 
their burden to the bower, and dashed it against the door, 
shouting with all their might to those within to open it. 

Windows, it must be remembered, were in those days so 
few and far between, that the folks inside had remained quite 
unaware of what was going on without. 

The door was opened cautiously enough ; and out looked, 
to the shame of knighthood be it said, two or three knights 
who had taken shelter in the bower with the ladies. What- 
ever they were going to -say the ladies forestalled, for, rush- 
ing out across the prostrate bear, they overwhelmed Hereward 
with praises, thanks, and after the straightforward custom of 
those days, with substantial kisses. 

"You must be knighted at once," cried they. "You have 
knighted yourself by that single blow." 

"A pity then," said one of the knights to the others, "that 
he had not given that accolade to himself, instead of the 
bear." 

"Unless some means are found," said another, "of taking 
down this boy's conceit, life will soon be not worth while 
here." ' 



56 CHARLES KINGSLEY 

''Either he must take ship," said a third, ''and look for 
adventures elsewhere, or I must." 

Martin Lightfoot heard those words ; and knowing that 
envy and hatred, like all other vices in those rough-hewn 
times, were apt to take very startling unmistakable shapes, 
kept his eye accordingly on those three knights. 

"He must be knighted — he shall be knighted, as soon as 
Sir Gilbert comes home," said all the ladies in chorus. 

"I should be sorry to think," said Hereward, with the 
blundering mock humility of a conceited boy, "that I had 
done anything worthy of such an honor. I hope to win my 
spurs by greater feats than these." 

A burst of laughter from the knights and gentlemen 
followed. 

"How loud the young cockerel crows after his first 
scuffle!" 

"Hark to him! What will he do next? Eat a dragon? 
Fly to the moon ? Marry the Sophy of Egypt's daughter ? " 

This last touched Hereward to the quick, for it was just 
what he thought of doing ; and his blood was heated enough 
already, as some one cried, with the evident intent of picking 
a quarrel : 

"That was meant for us. If the man who killed the bear 
has not deserved knighthood, what must we have deserved, 
who have not killed him? You understand his meaning, 
gentlemen — do not forget it ! " 

Hereward looked down, and setting his foot on the bear's 
head, wrenched out of it the sword, which he had left till 
now, with pardonable pride, fast set in the skull. 

Martin Lightfoot, for his part, drew stealthily from his 
bosom the little magic ax, keeping his eye on the brain-pan 
of the last speaker. 

The lady of the house cried "Shame!" and ordered the 
knights away with haughty words and gestures, which, be- 



.\D VENTURE WITH THE WHITE BEAR 57 

cause they were so well deserved, only made the quarrel 
more deadly. 

Then she commanded Here ward to sheathe his sword. 

He did so ; and turning to the knights, said with all 
courtesy, ''You mistake me, sirs. You were where brave 
knights should be, within the beleaguered fortress, defending 
the ladies. Had you remained outside, and been eaten by 
the bear, what must have befallen them had he burst open 
the door? As for this little lass, whom you left outside, she 
is too young to requite knight's prowess by lady's love ; and 
therefore beneath your attention, and only fit for the care of 
a boy like me." And taking up Alftruda in his arms, he 
carried her in and disappeared. 

Who now but Hereward was in all men's mouths? The 
minstrels made ballads on him ; the lasses sang his praises 
(says the chronicler) as they danced upon the green. Gil- 
bert's lady would need give him the seat, and all the honors 
of a belted knight, though knight he was none. And daily 
and weekly the valiant lad grew and hardened into a valiant 
man, and a courteous one withal, giving no offense himself, 
and not over ready to take offense at other men. 

s'tudy hints 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

innocent unmistakable ingratitude 

deficient blundering treachery 

champion prowess hospitaUty 

minstrel valiant stealthily 

Why did Hereward want to kill the white bear? How had the bear 
shown his strength before Hereward came? After he strikes the bear, 
how does he realize the animal's size? Criticize the action of the knights 
in regard to the boy's valiant deed. Is Kingsley's picture of a knight 
the usual one? How does the author secure suspense in this story? 
What is the climax ? Outline each point leading to the climax. 



58 CHARLES KINGSLEY 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Relate Hereward's adventure as if you had been present. Relate 
the adventure as if you were Hereward himself. Select one of the theme 
subjects suggested below. Decide what you consider the most exciting 
point, i.e. the climax, and try to ''work up" your hearers' interest to that 
point. Write an incident and stop short of the climax, letting the class 
suggest what it shall be, and how it shall end. 

A Rescue. How the Bear Fights. 

How I Tamed a Wild Animal. The Best and Worst Way to " Get 

When I was Most Terrified. Even." 

A Brave Deed. The Best Captain for a Football 

How I Got my Nickname. Team. 

When the Bear Escaped. A Friend in Need. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Hereward the Wake. Charles Kingsley. 

Westward Ho ! Charles Kingsley. 

Alton Locke. Charles Kingsley. 

Harold, the Last of the Saxons. Bulwer Lytton. 

Ivanhoe. Sir Walter Scott. 

The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood. Howard Pyle. 

In the Days of William the Conqueror. Eva March Tappan. 



THE PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS 

Sir Walter Scott 

Sir Walter Scott (i 771-1832) was born in Edinburgh. On account of 
lameness, he could not run and play with other boys ; so gathering them 
about him, he recited stories from the Scottish ballads in Percy's ReUques 
of A ncient English Poetry. He was educated for the profession of law, but 
adopted that of letters. In addition to history and poetry, he wrote 
twenty-nine novels, all of which show the love of romance which had been 
fostered by his reading when a boy. At the age of fifty-four, when a pub- 
lishing firm with which he was connected failed, he honorably set him- 
self to work to pay the debts. He nearly achieved the heroic task, but 
died from the long strain of unremitting toil. 

The poem Marmion, from which this selection was taken, was published 
in 1 808. The Lay of the Last Minstrel, The Lady of the Lake, and Marmion 
form his best poetic works. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 374-398, 444, 445. 

'LockYiQxVs Life of Scott. 



[At the period of this story, the relations between England and Scot- 
land were strained. Marmion has been sent by the king of England, 
Henry VIII, as envoy to the court of Scotland to complain of the depre- 
dations of the Scotch on the border between the two countries, and to 
warn James II not to interfere with Henry's continental affairs. Douglas 
at the command of his sovereign has been Marmion's host during his 
stay in Scotland. This particular incident begins with the departure 
of Marmion from Douglas's castle. The poem, Marmion, ends with the 
battle of Flodden Field (1513), one of the greatest disasters in Scotch 
history, for the English completely routed the Scotch, slaying their king 
and almost exterminating their nobility.] 



The train from out the castle drew, 

But Marmi6n stopped to bid adieu : 

59 



6o SIR WALTER SCOTT 

"Though something I might plain," he said, 
''Of cold respect to stranger guest, 
Sent hither by your king's behest, 

While in Tantallon's towers I stayed ; 
Part we in friendship from your land, 
And, noble earl, receive my hand." 
But Douglas round him drew his cloak, 
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : 
"My manors, halls, and bowers shall still 
Be open, at my sovereign's will. 
To each one whom he lists, howe'er 
Unmeet to be the owner's peer. 
My castles are my king's alone. 
From turret to foundation stone — 
The hand of Douglas is his own. 
And never shall in friendly grasp 
The hand of such as Marmion clasp." 

Burned Marmion's swarthy cheek like fire, 
And shook his very frame for ire. 

And — "This to me !" he said, — 
"An 'twere not for thy hoary beard. 
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared 

To cleave the Douglas head! 
And, first, I tell thee, haughty peer, 
He, who does England's message here. 
Although the meanest in her state. 
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate : 
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, 

Even in thy pitch of pride. 
Here, in thy hold, thy vassals near 
(Nay, never look upon your lord. 
And lay your hands upon your sword), — 

I tell thee, thou'rt defied ! 



THE PARTING OF MARMION AND DOUGLAS 6i 

And if thou said'st, I am not peer 
To any lord in Scotland here, 
Lowland or Highland, far or near, 
Lord Angus, thou hast Hed ! " — 

On the earl's cheek the flush of rage 
O'ercame the ashen hue of age : 
Fierce he broke forth, — "And dar'st thou then 
To beard the lion in his den, 

The Douglas in his hall? 
And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go? — 
No, by Saint Bride of Bothwell, no ! — 
Up drawbridge, grooms — what, warder, ho 1 

Let the portcuUis fall." 
Lord Marmion turned, — well was his need, — 
And dashed the rowels in his steed. 
Like arrow through the archway sprung. 
The ponderous grate behind him rung : 
To pass there was such scanty room. 
The bars, descending, razed his plume. 

The steed along the drawbridge flies, 
Just as it trembled on the rise ; 
Not lighter does the swallow skim 
Along the smooth lake's level brim : 
And when Lord Marmion reached his band, 
He halts, and turns with clinched hand, 
And shout of loud defiance pours, 
And shook his gauntlet at the towers. 

"Horse ! horse ! " the Douglas cried, "and chase !" 

But soon he reined his fury's pace ; 

"A royal messenger he came. 

Though most unworthy of the name. — . . . 

Saint Mary mend my fiery mood ! 



62 SIR WALTER SCOTT 

Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, 
I thought to slay him where he stood. 
'Tis pity of him, too," he cried, 
''Bold can he speak, and fairly ride, 
I warrant him a warrior tried." 
With this his mandate he recalls. 
And slowly seeks his castle halls. 

STUDY HINTS 

What are the most noticeable qualities of this selection? Note how 
not one unnecessary word is used to give a graphic idea of the quarrel. 
What kind of host has Douglas shown himself ? Do you think Marmion 
acted nobly in offering his hand to Douglas? Marmion's indignation at 
Douglas's refusal was for two reasons. What are they ? What thought 
makes Douglas calm down? Suppose a deaf man had been present at 
this interview, how would he have known it was a quarrel? What 
words show this ? Which man shows to better advantage in this quarrel ? 
Memorize at least one stanza. 

SUGGESTIONS TOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Lady of the Lake, Canto I, "The Chase." Sir Walter Scott. 

Gathering Song of Donald Dhu. Sir Walter Scott. 
Lullaby of an Infant Chief. Sir Walter Scott. 
Bruce to his Men at Bannockhurn. Robert Burns. 
The Ballad of Chevy Chase (Reliques) . Thomas Percy. 
Robin Hood and Allan-a-Dale. Thomas Percy. 
The Pipes at Lucknow. John G. Whittier. 
The Battle of Blenheim. Robert Southey. 



THE ESCAPE FROM THE TOWER 

Charles Reade 

Charles Reade (i8 14-1884), the English novelist, was born in Oxford- 
shire. He wrote several novels of which the best was The Cloister and 
the Hearth (1861), from which this episode is taken. This novel is a care- 
ful and fascinating study of fifteenth-century life. See also : 

Charles Reade, Dramatist, Novelist, Journalist, by Charles L. Reade 
and the Reverend Compton Reade. 



[Gerard is the son of a Tergouw (a town twelve miles from Rotterdam) 
merchant, who intends him to become a priest. He falls in love, how- 
ever, with Margaret Brandt, the daughter of a poor scholar, and gives up 
his church career. This so enrages his father that he thrusts Gerard 
into prison. His faithful friend Martin, and Margaret Brandt, devise 
a plan to rescue him,] 



Gerard was taken up several flights of stairs and thrust 
into a small room lighted only by a narrow window with a 
vertical iron bar. The~^ whole furniture was a huge oak 
chest. Imprisonment in that age was one of the highroads 
to death, for it implied cold, unbroken solitude, torture, 
starvation, and often poison. Gerard felt that he was in the 
hands of an enemy. And he kneeled down and commended 
his soul to God. 

Presently he rose and sprang at the iron bar of the window, 
and clutched it. This enabled him to look out by pressing 
his knees against the wall. Falling back somewhat heavily, 
he wrenched the rusty iron bar, held only by rusty nails, 
away from the stonework just as Ghysbrecht Van Swieten^ 

63 



64 CHARLES READE 

the burgomaster/ opened the door stealthily behind him. 
He brought a brown loaf and a pitcher of water, and set them 
on the chest in solemn silence. Gerard's first impulse was 
to brain him with the iron bar, and fly downstairs ; but the 
burgomaster, seeing something wicked in his eye, gave a little 
cough, and three stout fellows, armed, showed themselves 
directly at the door. 

"My orders are to keep you until you shall bind yourself 
by an oath to leave Margaret Brandt, and return to the 
church to which you have belonged from your cradle." 

"Death sooner." 

"With all my heart." And the burgomaster retired. 

As the sun declined, Gerard's heart too sank and sank; 
with the waning light even the embers of hope went out. 
He was faint, too, with hunger ; for he was afraid to eat the 
food Ghysbrecht had brought him ; and hunger alone cows 
men. He sat upon the chest, his arms and his head drooping 
before him, a picture of despondency. Suddenly something 
struck the wall beyond him very sharply, and then rattled 
on the floor at his feet. It was an arrow ; he saw the white 
feather. A chill ran through him, — they meant to assassi- 
nate him from the outside. He crouched. No more missiles 
came. He crawled on all fours, and took up the arrow; 
there was no head to it. He uttered a cry of hope : had a 
friendly hand shot it? 

He took it up and felt it over; he felt a soft substance 
attached to it. Then one of his eccentricities was of grand 
use to him. His tinder box enabled him to strike a light ; it 
showed him two things that made his heart bound with de- 
light. Attached to the arrow was a skein of silk, and on the 
arrow itself were words written. How his eyes devoured 
them, his heart panting the while ! 

"Well-beloved, make fast the silk to thy knife and lower 

1 A mayor, or other city ofl&cial in Holland. 



THE ESCAPE FROM THE TOWER 65 

to us : but hold thine end fast : then count a hundred and 
draw up." 

Gerard seized the oak chest, and with almost superhuman 
energy dragged it to the window. Standing on the chest 
and looking down he saw figures at the tower foot. They 
were so indistinct they looked like one huge form. He 
waved his bonnet ^ to them with trembling hand. Then he 
undid the silk rapidly but carefully, and made one end fast 
to his knife and lowered it till it ceased to draw. 

Then he counted a hundred, then pulled the silk carefully 
up ; it came up a little heavier. At last he came to a large 
knot, and by that knot a stout whipcord was attached to the 
silk. What could this mean ? While he was puzzling himself, 
Margaret's voice came up to him, low but clear. "Draw up, 
Gerard, till you see Hberty." At the word, Gerard drew the 
whipcord line up, and drew and drew until he came to another 
knot, and found a cord of some thickness take the place of the 
whipcord. He had no sooner begun to draw this up than he 
found that he now had a heavy weight to deal with. Then 
the truth suddenly flashed upon him, and he went to work 
and pulled and pulled till the perspiration rolled down him ; 
the weight got heavier and heavier, and at last he was 
well-nigh exhausted ; looking down he saw in the moon- 
light a sight that revived him : it was as it were a great 
snake coming up to him out of the deep shadow cast by the 
tower. 

He gave a shout of joy, and a score more wild pulls, and lo ! 
a stout new rope touched his hand: he hauled and hauled, 
and dragged the end into his prison, and instantly passed it 
through both handles of the chest in succession, and knotted 
it firmly ; then sat for a moment to recover his breath and 
collect his courage. The first thing was to make sure that 
the chest was sound, and capable of resisting his weight 

1 A soft woolen cap. 
H. & B. READINGS — 5 



66 CHARLES READE 

poised in mid-air. He jumped with all force upon it. At the 
third jump the whole side burst open, and out scuttled the 
contents, a host of parchments. 

This shook his confidence in the chest's powers of resist- 
ance ; so he gave it an ally : he took the iron bar and fas- 
tened it with the small rope across the large rope, and across 
the window. He now mounted the chest, and from the chest 
put his foot through the window, and sat half in and half out, 
with one hand on that part of the rope which was inside. In 
the silent night he heard his own heart beat. 

The free air breathed on his face, and gave him the courage 
to risk what we must all lose one day — for liberty. Many 
dangers awaited him, but the greatest was the first getting 
on the rope outside. Gerard reflected. Finally, he put 
himself in the attitude of a swimmer, his body to the waist, 
being in the prison, his legs outside. Then holding the 
inside rope with both hands, he felt anxiously with his feet for 
the outside rope, and, when he had got it, he worked it in 
between the soles of his feet, and kept it there tight ; then he 
uttered a short prayer, and, all the calmer for it, put his left 
hand on the sill and gradually wriggled out. 

Then he seized the iron bar, and for one fearful moment 
hung outside from it by his right hand, while his left hand 
felt for the rope down at his knees ; it was too tight against 
the wall for his fingers to get round it higher up. The 
moment he had fairly grasped it, he left the bar, and 
swiftly seized the rope with his right hand too ; but in this 
maneuver his body necessarily fell about a yard. A stifled 
cry came up from below. Gerard hung in mid-air. He 
clenched his teeth, and nipped the rope tight with his feet 
and gripped it with his hands, and went down slowly hand 
below hand. 

He passed by one huge rough stone after another. He 
saw there was green moss on one. He looked up and he 



THE ESCAPE FROM THE TOWER 



67 



looked down. The moon shone 
into his prison window ; it seemed 
very near. The fluttering figures 
below seemed an awful distance. 
It made him dizzy to look down; 
so he fixed his eyes steadily on 
the wall close to him, and went 
slowly down, down, down. 

He passed a rusty, slimy streak 
on the wall : it was some ten feet 
long. The rope made his hands very 
hot. He stole another look up. 

The prison window was a good 
way off now. 

Down — down — down — down. 

The rope made his hands sore. 

He looked up. The window was 
so distant, he ventured now to turn 
his eyes downward again ; and 
there, not more than thirty feet 
below him, were Margaret and 
Martin, their faithful hands up- 
stretched to catch him -Should he 
fall. He could see their eyes and 
their teeth shine in the moonlight. 
For their mouths were open, and 
hard. 

"Take care, Gerard ! O, take care ! Look not down." 

"Fear me not," cried Gerard, joyfully, and eyed the wall, 
but came down faster. 

In another minute his feet were at their hands. They 
seized him ere he touched the ground, and all three clung 
together in one embrace./ 




they were breathing 



68 CHARLES READE 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

furniture impulse maneuver 

imprisonment resistance dizzy 

torture anxiously cling, clung, clung 

What do you learn from this incident about a fifteenth-century father's 
power over his child ? What does Gerard fear ? Follow carefully every 
stage in his escape. Is the description clear? What seems most vivid 
to you? How does the author give the impression of the great height 
of the tower? From whose viewpoint ? What is the climax ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

In Hereward^s Adventure with the White Bear, you have made a list of 
the different points of suspense leading to the highest point, i.e. to the 
climax. In other words, you have outlined the plot. A plot is a series 
of incidents, each growing out of the preceding one, and increasing in 
interest until the climax is reached. After the climax, comes one or more 
points that relieve the suspense. The relief is called the resolution (i.e. 
untying) of the plot. Each point, or incident, in a well-constructed plot 
is a link in a chain, and can no more be left out than a link can. You 
can trace this in Gerard's actions from the moment he sees the arrow. 

Outline one of the following theme subjects, imitating Reade's out- 
line, and trying to make your account as vivid as his. Try to see each 
point with your imagination before writing about it. 

A Lucky Escape. An Adventure in a Fire. 

How to Come Down a Rope. A Steady Head. 

How I was Imprisoned in a Medieval Castle and Escaped from It. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Cloister and the Hearth. Charles Reade. 

Hugh Wynne. S. Weir Mitchell. 

St. Ives. Robert Louis Stevenson. 

David Balfour. Robert Louis Stevenson. 

The Black Tulip. Alexander Dumas. 

The Prisoner of Zenda. Anthony Hope (Hawkins). 

The Splendid Spur. A. T. Quiller-Couch. 

Wonderful Escapes by Americans. W. S. Booth. 



THE HIGHWAYMAN! 

Alfred Noyes 

Alfred Noyes (1880- ) was born in England. He is considered one of 
the leading poets of the twentieth century. He has traveled in America, 
reading his poems and lecturing. His poetry is full of vigor, as you will 
see from The Highwayman. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 603-605, 623. 

Hamilton W. Mabie's Introduction to Poems by Alfred Noyes (1906). 

Who is Alfred Noyes? Catholic World, Vol. 97, pp. 289-304. 
(June, 1913.) 

PART ONE 



The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees, 
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, 
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, 
And the highwayman came riding — 

Riding — riding — ^ 
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door. 

II 

He'd a French cocked hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace 

at his chin, 
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doeskin ; 
They fitted with never a wrinkle : his boots were up to the 

thigh ! 

^ From Poems by Alfred Noyes. Copyright, 1906, by The Macmillan Company. Pub- 
lished in this volume by special arrangement with The Macmillan Company and Frederick 
A. Stokes Company. 

69 



70 



ALFRED NOYES 



And he rode with a jeweled 

twinkle, 
His pistol butts a-twinkle, 
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under 

the jeweled sky. 

Ill 

r. Over the cobbles he clattered 
and clashed in the dark 
inn yard, 
And he tapped with his whip 
on the shutters, but all 
was locked and barred ; 
He whistled a tune to the win- 
dow, and who should be 
waiting there 
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, 

Bess, the landlord's daughter. 
Plaiting a dark red love knot into her long black hair. 




IV 

And dark in the dark old inn yard a stable-wicket creaked 
Where Tim the ostler listened ; his face was white and peaked ; 
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like moldy hay, 
But he loved the landlord's daughter, 
The landlord's red-lipped daughter. 
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say — 



*'One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night. 
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning 

light; 
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, 



THE HIGHWAYMAN 71 

Then look for me by moonlight, 

Watch for me by moonlight, 
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the 
way." 

VI 

He rose upright in the stirrups ; he scarce could reach her 

hand, 
But she loosened her hair i' the casement ! His face burned 

like a brand 
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his 

breast ; 
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, 

(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight !) 
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped 

away to the West. 

PART TWO 



He did not come in the dawning ; he did not come at noon ; 
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon. 
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple 

moor, 
A redcoat troop came marching — 

Marching — marching — 
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn door. 

II 

They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead, 
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of 

her narrow bed ; 
Two of them knelt at l^er casement, with muskets at their 

side ! 



72 ALFRED NOYES 

There was death at every window ; 

And hell at one dark window ; 
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he 
would ride. 

Ill 

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering 

jest ; 
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath 

her breast ! 
^'Now keep good watch ! " and they kissed her. 

She heard the dead man say ^ 
Look for me by moonlight; 

Watch for me by moonlight; 
ril come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way I 

IV 

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held 

good ! 
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat 

or blood ! 
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours 

crawled by Hke years. 
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight. 

Cold on the stroke of midnight, 
The tip of one finger touched it ! The trigger at least was 

hers ! 



The tip of one finger touched it ; she strove no more for the 

rest ! 
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her 

breast. 
She would not risk their hearing ; she would not strive again ; 

1 In her fear she already thought of her lover as dead. 



THE HIGHWAYMAN 73 

For the road lay bare in the moonlight ; 

Blank and bare in the moonlight ; 
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her 
love's refrain. 

VI 

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs 

ringing clear ; 
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance ! Were they deaf that they 

did not hear ? 
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, 
The highwayman came riding, 

Riding, — riding ! 
The redcoats looked to their priming ! She stood up, straight 

and still ! 

VII 

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence ! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night ! 
Nearer he came and nearer ! Her face was like a light ! 
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep 

breath, 
Then her finger moved in the moonlight, 
Her musket shattered the moonlight, 
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him — 

with her death. 

VIII 

He turned ; he spurred to the Westward ; he did not know 

who stood 
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her 

own red blood ! 
Not till the dawn he heard it, and slowly blanched to hear 
How Bess, the landlord's daughter, 

The landlord's black-eyed daughter. 
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the 

darkness there. 



74 ALFRED NOYES 

IX 

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky. 
With the white road smoking behind him, and his rapier 

brandished high ! 
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon ; wine-red was his 

velvet coat ; 
When they shot him down on the highway, 

Down like a dog on the highway, 
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of 

lace at his throat. 

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the 

trees. 
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, 
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, 
A highwayman comes riding — 

Riding — riding — 
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn door. 

XI 

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn yard; 
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and 

barred; 
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting 

there 
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, 

Bess, the landlord's daughter. 
Plaiting a dark red love knot into her long black hair. 

STUDY HINTS 

This spirited poem needs little comment. Try to see each picture 
clearly. Read it aloud and note the splendid swing of the verse. What 
is the climax ? Was Bess as brave as her lover ? After reading the poem, 
tell it aloud to some one. Try to make him see the pictures as clearly 
as you do. 



THE HIGHWAYMAN 75 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

A So)ig of the Plow. Alfred Noyes. 
The Admiral's Ghost. Alfred Noyes. 
Herve Riel. Robert Browning. 

How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix. Robert Brown- 
ing. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 
Prelude to The Flower of Old Japan. Alfred Noyes. 
Selections from Dra^e .• An English Epic. Alfred Noyes. 
Selections from The Barrel Organ. Alfred Noyes. 
Selections from The Wine-press. Alfred Noyes. 



WEE WILLIE WINKIEi 

RuDYARD Kipling 

[For biographical sketch see page 29.] 
"An ofi&cer and a gentleman." 

His full name was Percival William Williams, but he 
picked up the other name in a nursery book, and that was the 
end of the christened titles. His mother's ayah ^ called him 
WAlit-Baba, but as he never paid the faintest attention to 
anything that the ayah said, her wisdom did not help matters. 

His father was the colonel of the 195th, and as soon as 
Wee Willie Winkie was old enough to understand what 
military discipline meant. Colonel Williams put him under 
it. There was no other way of managing the child. When 
he was good for a week, he drew good-conduct pay ; and when 
he was bad, he was deprived of his good-conduct stripe. 
Generally he was bad, for India offers so many chances to 
little six-year-olds of going wrong. 

Children resent familiarity from strangers, and Wee Willie 
Winkie was a very particular child. Once he accepted an 
acquaintance, he was graciously pleased to thaw. He 
accepted Brandis, a subaltern of the 195th, on sight. Brandis 
was having tea at the colonel's, and Wee Willie Winkie en- 
tered strong in the possession of a good-conduct badge won 
for not chasing the hens round the compound. He regarded 
Brandis with gravity for at least ten minutes, and then 
delivered himself of his opinion. 

"I like you," said he slowly, getting off his chair and 

1 First published in 1888 in Allahabad, India. * Maid. 

76 



WEE WILLIE WINKIE 77 

coming over to Brandis. "I like you. I shall call you 
Coppy, because of your hair. Do you mind being called 
Coppy? It is because of ve hair, you know." 

Here was one of the most embarrassing of Wee Willie 
Winkle's peculiarities. He would look at a stranger for some 
time, and then, without warning or explanation, would give 
him a name. And the name stuck. No regimental penalties 
could break Wee Willie Winkie of this habit. He lost his 
good-conduct badge for christening the commissioner's wife 
"Fobs"; but nothing that the colonel could do made the 
station forego the nickname, and Mrs. CoUen remained Mrs. 
*'Pobs" till the end of her stay. So Brandis was christened 
'Xoppy," and rose, therefore, in the estimation of the regi- 
ment. 

If Wee Willie Winkie took an interest in any one, the for- 
tunate man was envied alike by the mess and the rank and 
file. And in their envy lay no suspicion of self-interest. 
''The colonel's son" was idolized on his own merits entirely. 
Yet Wee Willie Winkie was not lovely. His face was per- 
manently freckled, as his legs were permanently scratched, 
and in spite of his mother's almost tearful remonstrances he 
had insisted upon having his long yellow locks cut short in 
the mihtary fashion. "I^want my hair like Sergeant Tum- 
mil's," said Wee Willie Winkie, and, his father abetting, the 
sacrifice was accomplished. 

Three weeks after the bestowal of his youthful affections 
on Lieutenant Brandis — henceforward to be called " Coppy" 
for the sake of brevity — Wee Willie Winkie was destined to 
behold strange things and far beyond his comprehension. 

Coppy returned his liking with interest. Coppy had let 
him wear for five rapturous minutes his own big sword — 
just as tall as Wee WiUie Winkie. Coppy had promised him 
a terrier puppy ; and Coppy had permitted him to witness 
the miraculous operation of shaving. Nay, more — Coppy 



( 



78 RUDYARD KIPLING 

had said that even he, Wee WilUe Winkie, would rise in time 
to the ownership of a box of shiny knives, a silver soap box 
and a silver-handled "sputter-brush," as Wee WilUe Winkie 
called it. Decidedly, there was no one except his father, who 
could give or take away good-conduct badges at pleasure, 
half so wise, strong, and valiant as Coppy with the Afghan 
and Egyptian medals on his breast. Why, then, should 
Coppy be guilty of the unmanly weakness of kissing — vehe- 
mently kissing — a "big girl," Miss AUardyce to wit? In 
the course of a morning ride, Wee Willie Winkie had seen 
Coppy so doing, and, like the gentleman he was, had promptly 
wheeled round and cantered back to his groom, lest the 
groom should also see. 

Under ordinary circumstances he would have spoken to his 
father, but he felt instinctively that this was a matter on which 
Coppy ought first to be consulted. 

"Coppy," shouted Wee Willie Winkie, reining up outside 
that subaltern's bungalow early one morning — "I want to 
see you, Coppy! " 

"Come in, young 'un," returned Coppy, who was at early 
breakfast in the midst of his dogs. "What mischief have 
you been getting into now?" 

Wee Wilhe Winkie had done nothing notoriously bad for 
three days, and so stood on a pinnacle of virtue. 

"I've been doing nothing bad," said he, curling himself 
into a long chair with a studious affectation of the colonel's 
languor after a hot parade. He buried his freckled nose in a 
teacup and, with eyes staring roundly over the rim, asked: 
— "I say, Coppy, is it pwoper to kiss big girls?" 

"By Jove! You're beginning early. Who do you want 
to kiss?" 

"No one. My muvver's always kissing me if I don't stop 
her. If it isn't pwoper, how was you kissing Major AUar- 
dyce's big girl last morning, by ve canal? " 



WEE WILLIE WINKIE 79 

Coppy's brow wrinkled. He and Miss Allardyce had with 
great craft managed to keep their engagement secret for a 
fortnight. There were urgent and imperative reasons why 
Major Allardyce should not know how matters stood for at 
least another month, and this small marplot had discovered 
a great deal too much. 

"I saw you," said Wee WilKe Winkie, calmly. "But ve 
groom didn't see. I said, 'Hutjao.^^^ 

"Oh, you had that much sense, you young Rip," groaned 
poor Coppy, half amused and half angry. "And how many 
people may you have told about it?" 

"Only me myself. You didn't tell when I twied to wide 
ve buffalo ven my pony was lame ; and I fought you wouldn't 
Uke." 

"Winkie," said Coppy enthusiastically, shaking the small 
hand, "you're the best of good fellows. Look here, you can't 
understand all these things. One of these days — hang it, 
how can I make you see it — I'm going to marry Miss 
Allardyce, and then she'll be Mrs. Coppy, as you say. If 
your young mind is so scandalized at the idea of kissing big 
girls, go and tell your father." 

"What will happen?" said Wee Willie Winkie, who firmly 
beheved that his father wa^ omnipotent. 

"I shall get into trouble," said Coppy, playing his trump 
card with an appealing look at the holder of the ace. 

"Ven I won't," said Wee Willie Winkie briefly. "But 
my faver says it's un-man-ly to be always kissing, and I 
didn't fink you'd do vat, Coppy." 

"I'm not always kissing, old chap. It's only now and then, 
and when you're bigger you'll do it too. Your father meant 
it's not good for little boys." 

"Ah!" said Wee Willie Winkie, now fully enlightened. 
" It's like ve sputter-brush ? " 

"Exactly," said Coppy gravely. 



8o RUDYARD KIPLING 

'^But I don't fink I'll ever want to kiss big girls, nor no 
one, 'cept my muvver. And I must vat, you know." 

There was a long pause, broken by Wee Willie Winkle. 

''Are you fond of vis big girl, Coppy?" 

"Awfully !" said Coppy. 

''Fonder van you are of Bell or ve Butcha — or me ?" 

"It's in a different way," said Coppy. "You see, one of 
these days Miss Allardyce will belong to me, but you'll 
grow up and command the regiment and — all sorts of things. 
It's quite different, you see." 

"Very well," said Wee Willie Winkie, rising. "If you're 
fond of ve big girl, I won't tell any one. I must go now." 

Coppy rose and escorted his small guest to the door, 
adding: "You're the best of little fellows, Winkie. I 
tell you what. In thirty days from now you can tell if you 
like — tell any one you like." 

Thus the secret of the Brandis- Allardyce engagement was 
dependent on a little child's word. Coppy, who knew Wee 
Willie Winkle's idea of truth, was at ease, for he felt that he 
would not break promises. Wee Willie Winkie betrayed a 
special and unusual Interest in Miss Allardyce, and, slowly 
revolving round that embarrassed young lady, was used to 
regard her gravely with unwinking eye. He was trying to 
discover why Coppy should have kissed her. She was not 
half so nice as his own mother. On the other hand, she was 
Coppy's property, and would in time belong to him. There- 
fore it behooved him to treat her with as much respect as 
Coppy's big sword or shiny pistol. 

The idea that he had shared a great secret in common with 
Coppy kept Wee Willie Winkie unusually virtuous for three 
weeks. Then the Old Adam broke out, and he made what 
he called a "camp fire" at the bottom of the garden. How 
could he have foreseen that the flying sparks would have 
lighted the Colonel's little hayrick and consumed a week's 



WEE WILLIE WINKIE 8i 

store for the horses ? Sudden and swift was the punishment 
— deprivation of the good-conduct badge, and, most sorrowful 
of all, two days' confinement to barracks — the house and 
veranda — coupled with the withdrawal of the light of his 
father's countenance. 

He took the sentence like the man he strove to be, drew 
himself up with a quivering under-lip, saluted, and, once 
clear of the room, ran to weep bitterly in his nursery — called 
by him ''my quarters." Coppy came in the afternoon and 
attempted to console the culprit. 

''I'm under awwest," said Wee Willie Winkie mourn- 
fully, "and I didn't ought to speak to you." 

Very early the next morning he climbed on to the roof of the 
house — that was not forbidden ^— and beheld Miss Allar- 
dyce going for a ride. 

"Where are you going?" cried Wee Willie Winkie. 

"Across the river," she answered, and trotted forward. 

Now the cantonment in which the 195th lay was bounded 
on the north by a river ^ dry in the winter. From his earli- 
est years. Wee Willie Winkie had been forbidden to go across 
the river, and had noted that even Coppy — the almost 
almighty Coppy — had never set foot beyond it. Wee 
Willie Winkie had once been read to, out of a big blue book, 
the history of the Princess and the Goblins — a most wonder- 
ful tale of a land where the Goblins were always warring with 
the children of men until they were defeated by one Curdie. 
Ever since that date it seemed to him that the bare black 
and purple hills across the river were inhabited by Goblins, 
and, in truth, every one had said that there lived the Bad 
Men. Even in his own house the lower halves of the windows 
were covered with green paper on account of the Bad Men 
who might, if allowed clear view, fire into peaceful drawing 
rooms and comfortable bedrooms. Certainly, beyond the 
river, which was the end of ail the earth, lived the Bad Men. 

H. & B. READINGS — 6 



82 RUDYARD KIPLING 

And here was Major Allardyce's big girl, Coppy's property, 
preparing to venture into their borders ! What would Coppy 
say if anything happened to her? If the Goblins ran off 
with her as they did with Curdie's Princess? She must at 
all hazards be turned back. 

The house was still. Wee Willie Winkie reflected for a 
moment on the very terrible wrath of his father ; and then 
— broke his arrest ! It was a crime unspeakable. The 
low sun threw his shadow, very large and very black, on the 
trim garden paths, as he went down to the stables and 
ordered his pony. It seemed to him in the hush of the dawn 
that all the big world had been bidden to stand still and look 
at Wee Willie Winkie guilty of mutiny. The drowsy groom 
handed him his mount, and, since the one great sin made all 
others insignificant, Wee Wilhe Winkie said that he was going 
to ride over to Coppy Sahib,^ and went out at a foot pace, 
stepping on the soft mold of the flower-borders. 

The devastating track of the pony's feet was the last mis- 
deed that cut him off from all sympathy of humanity. He 
turned into the road, leaned forward, and rode as fast as 
the pony could put foot to the ground in the direction of the 
river. 

But the liveliest of twelve-two ponies can do little against 
the long canter of a Waler.^ Miss Allardyce was far ahead, 
had passed through the crops, beyond the police post, when 
all the guards were asleep, and her mount was scattering the 
pebbles of the river bed as Wee Willie Winkie left the canton- 
ment and British India behind him. Bowed forward and 
still flogging. Wee Willie Winkie shot into Afghan territory, 
and could just see Miss Allardyce a black speck, flickering 
across the stony plain. The reason of her wandering was 
simple enough. Coppy, in a tone of too-hastily-assumed 
authority, had told her overnight that she must not ride out 

1 A term of respect, as master or mistress. 2 a specially fine breed of cavalry horse. 



WEE WILLIE WINKIE 83 

by the river. And she had gone to prove her own spirit and 
teach Coppy a lesson. 

Almost at the foot of the inhospitable hills, Wee Willie 
Winkie saw the Waler blunder and come down heavily. 
Miss Allardyce struggled clear, but her ankle had been 
severely twisted, and she could not stand. Having thus 
demonstrated her spirit, she wept copiously, and was sur- 
prised by the apparition of a white, wide-eyed child in khaki, 
on a nearly spent pony. 

"Are you badly, badly hurted?" shouted Wee WiUie 
Winkie, as soon as he was within range. "You didn't 
ought to be here." 

"I don't know," said Miss Allardyce ruefully, ignoring the 
reproof. "Good gracious, child, what are you doing here?" 

"You said you was going acwoss ve wiver," panted Wee 
Willie Winkie, throwing himself off his pony. "And nobody 
— not even Coppy — must go acwoss ve wiver, and I came 
after you ever so hard, but you wouldn't stop, and now you've 
hurted yourself, and Coppy will be angwy wiv me, and — 
I've bwoken my awwest! I've bwoken my awwest!" 

The future colonel of the 195th sat down and sobbed. 
In spite of the pain in her ankle the girl was moved. 

"Have you ridden alljthe way from cantonments, little 
man? What for?" 

"You belonged to Coppy. Coppy told me so!" wailed 
Wee Willie Winkie disconsolately. "I saw him kissing you, 
and he said he was fonder of you van Bell or ve Butcha or 
me. And so I came. You must get up and come back. 
You didn't ought to be here. Vis is a bad place, and I've 
bwoken my awwest." 

"I can't move, Winkie," said Miss Allardyce, with a groan. 
"I've hurt my foot. What shall I do ? " 

She showed a readiness to weep afresh, which steadied Wee 
Willie Winkie, who had been brought up to beHeve that tears 



84 RUDYARD KIPLING 

were the depth of unmanHness. Still, when one is as great 
a sinner as Wee Willie Winkie, even a man may be permitted 
to break down. 

"Winkie," said Miss Allardyce, "when you've rested a 
little, ride back and tell them to send out something to carry 
me back in. It hurts fearfully." 

The child sat still for a little time and Miss Allardyce 
closed her eyes ; the pain was nearly making her faint. She 
was roused by Wee Willie Winkie tying up the reins on his 
pony's neck and setting it free with a vicious cut of his whip 
that made it whicker. The little animal headed towards the 
cantonments. 

"Oh, Winkie ! What are you doing?" 

" Hush ! " said Wee Willie Winkie. " Vere's a man coming 
— one of ve Bad Men. I must stay wiv you. My faver says 
a man must always look after a girl. Jack will go home, and 
ven vey'll come and look for us. Vat's why I let him go." 

Not one man, but two or three had appeared from behind 
the rocks of the hills, and the heart of Wee Willie Winkie 
sank within him, for just in this manner were the Goblins 
wont to steal out and vex Curdie's soul. Thus had they 
played in Curdie's garden, he had seen the picture, and thus 
had they frightened the Princess's nurse. He heard them 
talking to each other, and recognized with joy the bastard 
Pushto ^ that he had picked up from one of his father's 
grooms lately dismissed. People who spoke that tongue 
could not be the Bad Men. They were only natives after all. 

They came up to the bowlders on which Miss AUardyce's 
horse had blundered. 

Then rose from the rock Wee Willie Winkie, child of the 
dominant race, aged six and three quarters, and said briefly 
and emphatically ^' JaoT^'^ The pony had crossed the river 
bed. 

1 An Indian dialect. 2 /.g, halt! 



WEE WILLIE WINKIE 



8S 



The men laughed, and laughter from natives was the one 
thing Wee Willie Winkie could not tolerate. He asked them 
what they wanted and why they did not depart. Other men 
with most evil faces and crooked-stocked guns crept out of 
the shadows of the hills, till, 
soon. Wee Willie Winkie was 
face to face with an audience 
some twenty strong. Miss 
Allardyce screamed. 

"Who are you?" said one 
of the men. 

"I am the Colonel Sahib's 
son, and my order is that you 
go at once. You black men 
are frightening the Miss Sahib. 
One of you must run into can- 
tonments and take the news 
that the Miss Sahib has hurt 
herself, and that the colonel's 
son is here with her." 

"Put our feet into the trap I" was the laughing reply. 
"Hear this boy's speech !" 

"Say that I sent you-^I, the colonel's son. They will 
give you money." 

"What is the use of this talk? Take up the child and 
the girl, and we can at least ask for the ransom. Ours 
are the villages on the heights," said a voice in the back- 
ground. 

These were the Bad Men — worse than Goblins — and it 
needed all Wee Willie Winkle's training to prevent him from 
bursting into tears. But he felt that to cry before a native, 
excepting only his mother's ayah, would be an infamy greater 
than any mutiny. Moreover, he, as future colonel of the 
195th, had that grim regiment at his back. 




86 RUDYARD KIPLING 

"Are you going to carry us away ? " said Wee Willie Winkie, 
very blanched and uncomfortable. 

"Yes, my little Sahib Bahadur,'" ^ said the tallest of the 
men, "and eat you afterwards." 

"That is child's talk," said Wee Willie Winkie. "Men 
do not eat men." 

A yell of laughter interrupted him, but he went on firmly, 
— "And if you do carry us away, I tell you that all my 
regiment will come up in a day and kill you all without 
leaving one. Who will take my message to the Colonel 
Sahib?" 

Speech in any vernacular — and Wee Willie Winkie had 
a colloquial acquaintance with three — was easy to the boy 
who could not yet manage his "r's" and "th's" aright. 

Another man joined the conference, crying: "O foolish 
men ! What this babe says is true. He is the heart's heart 
of those white troops. For the sake of peace let them go 
both, for if he be taken, the regiment will break loose and 
gut the valley. Our villages are in the valley, and we shall 
not escape. That regiment are devils. They broke Khoda 
Yar's breastbone with kicks when he tried to take the rifles ; 
and if we touch this child they will fire and plunder for a 
month, till nothing remains. Better to send a man back to 
take the message and get a reward. I say that this child is 
their God, and that they will spare none of us, nor our women, 
if we harm him." 

It was Din Mahommed, the dismissed groom of the colonel, 
who made the diversion, and an angry and heated discussion 
followed. Wee Willie Winkie, standing over Miss Allardyce, 
waited the upshot. Surely his "wegiment," his own "wegi- 
ment," would not desert him if they knew of his extremity. 



1 A very formal term of respect, as Your Excellency. The man is of course making 
sport of the child . 



WEE WILLIE WINKIE 87 

The riderless pony brought the news to the 195th, though 
there had been consternation in the colonel's household for 
an hour before. The little beast came in through the parade 
ground in front of the main barracks, where the men were 
settling down to play spoil-five till the afternoon. Devlin, 
the color-sergeant of E Company, glanced at the empty 
saddle and tumbled through the barrack rooms, kicking 
up each room corporal as he passed. "Up, ye beggars! 
There's something happened to the colonel's son," he 
shouted. 

"He couldn't fall off! S'elp me, 'e couldn't fall off," 
blubbered a drummer boy. "Go an' hunt acrost the river. 
He's over there if he's anywhere, an' maybe those Pathans 
have got 'im. For the love o' Gawd don't look for 'm in 
the nullahs ! ^ Let's go over the river." 

"There's sense in Mott yet," said Devlin. "E Company, 
double out to the river — sharp! " 

So E Company, in its shirt sleeves mainly, doubled for the 
dear life, and in the rear toiled the perspiring sergeant, 
adjuring it to double yet faster. The cantonment was alive 
with the men of the 195th hunting for Wee Willie Winkie, and 
the colonel finally overtook E Company, far too exhausted to 
swear, struggling in the pebbles of the river bed. 

Up the hill under which Wee Willie Winkie's Bad Men were 
discussing the wisdom of carrying off the child and the girl, 
a lookout fired two shots. 

"What have I said?" shouted Din Mahommed. "There 
is the warning ! The pulton ^ are out already and are coming 
across the plain! Get away! Let us not be seen with the 
boy!" 

The men waited for an instant, and then, as another shot 
was fired, withdrew into the hills, silently as they had ap- 
peared. 

i/.c. ravines or gorges. = /.e. regiment. 



88 RUDYARD KIPLING 

"The wegiment is coming," said Wee Willie Winkie con- 
fidently to Miss Allardyce, ''and it's all wight. Don't cwy!" 

He needed the advice himself, for ten minutes later, when 
his father came up, he was weeping bitterly with his head in 
Miss Allardyce's lap. 

And the men of the 195th carried him home with shouts 
and rejoicings ; and Coppy, who had ridden a horse into a 
lather, met him, and, to his intense disgust, kissed him openly 
in the presence of the men. 

But there was balm for his dignity. His father assured 
him that not only would the breaking of arrest be condoned, 
but that the good-conduct badge would be restored as soon 
as his mother could sew it on his blouse sleeve. Miss Allar- 
dyce had told the colonel a story that made him proud of his 
son. 

"She belonged to you, Coppy," said Wee Willie Winkie, 
indicating Miss Allardyce with a grimy forefinger. "I knew 
she didn't ought to go acwoss ve wiver, and I knew ve wegi- 
ment would come to me if I sent Jack home." 

"You're a hero, Winkie," said Coppy — "a pukka'^ 
hero!" 

"I don't know what vat means," said Wee Willie Winkie, 
"but you mustn't call me Winkie any no more. I'm Percival 
Will'am Will'ams." 

And in this manner did Wee Willie Winkie enter into his 
manhood. 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

christen dependent emphatically 

nickname hazard blanched 

urgent bowlder barracks 

possession dominant badge 

^ Sure-enough. 



WEE WILLIE WINKIE 89 

How has respect for army discipline been trained in Wee Willie 
Winkie ? What makes him promise Coppy that he will keep his secret ? 
Can you explain why he feels so deeply breaking his arrest? What other 
circumstances made it hard for him to go to Miss AUardyce's aid ? What 
fine quality for friendship does he show when he goes? The English 
race had for many generations treated the natives of India as their 
inferiors, which partly explains Wee Willie Winkle's commanding ways 
with them. What other explanation can you suggest? After reading 
the story, can you understand why he was idolized by the regiment? 
When do you think he "entered into manhood," when he assumed his 
full name or before? 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

There are two ways of showing the characters of people in stories. 
In one the writer tells what traits they have ; in the other he makes them 
act so that we discover their traits from their actions. The last way is 
called the "dramatic method." Does the plot of Wee Willie Winkie 
interest you? Does the boy himself interest you? Look around you and 
see if you can find an incident that illustrates unselfishness. Make a study 
of some small boy for a day, without his knowledge, and write what 
you have observed. The next day make a note of a particular trait 
that you have seen, and find other illustrations of it through his actions. 
After carefully selecting the climax, tell a story in which a friend of yours 
is the central figure. Have the action in the story reveal his strongest 
trait. Do not state what it is, but allow the class to guess it. 

A friend of yours has been accused of cheating on an examination. 
Defend his honor by the dramatic method. 

A friend has been said to be selfish in her home. You know it is not 
true. Defend her reputation. 

A Young Girl on the Train. 
A Good Loser. 
A Good Winner. 
Learning to Ride. 
How my Dog Knows I Love Him. 
How We Knew His Team Won. 
How I Know my Dog Loves Me. 
What is Loyalty ? 



90 RUDYARD KIPLING 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Jungle Books I and II. Rudyard Kipling. 

Just So Stories. Rudyard Kipling. 

On Greenhow Hill (in Life's Handicap). Rudyard Kipling. 

The Day's Work. Rudyard Kipling. 

William the Conqueror. Rudyard Kipling. 

.ooy. Rudyard Kipling. 

The Ship that Found Herself. Rudyard Kipling. 

The Brushwood Boy. Rudyard Kipling. 

Baa, Baa, Black Sheep (in Under the Deodars). Rudyard Kipling. 

Captains Courageous. Rudyard Kipling. 

Puck of Pook's Hill. Rudyard Kipling. 

Kim. Rudyard Kipling. 

Story of Sonny Sahib. Sarah J. Duncan. 



A GROUP OF NATURE LYRICS 

The brief expression of a single emotion in poetry is called 
a lyric. Lyrics may express joy, sorrow, love of nature, of 
one's country, or of human beings. These five lyrics have 
some aspect of nature for their chief subject. 

THE WINDi 

Robert Louis Stevenson 

[For biographical sketch see page 112.] 

I SAW you toss the kites on high 
And blow the birds about the sky ; 
And all around I heard you pass. 
Like ladies' skirts across the grass — 
O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 

I saw the different things you did. 
But always you yourself you hid. 
I felt you push, I heard you call, 
I could not see yourself at all — 
O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 

O you that are so strong and cold, 
O blower, are you young or old ? 
Are you a beast of field and tree. 
Or just a stronger child than me ? 
O wind, a-blowing all day long, 
O wind, that sings so loud a song ! 

^ From A Child's Garden of Verse. 
91 



92 A GROUP OF NATURE LYRICS 

THE GRASS 1 
Emily Dickinson 

Emily Dickinson (i 830-1 886) was the daughter of a prominent 
lawyer in Amherst, Massachusetts. Of a very retiring nature, she rarely 
saw any one, and for many years did not even cross the threshold of her 
own home. Her work is most unusual, but she would permit only three 
or four of her poems to be published. After her death they were collected 
and published by friends. 

The grass so little has to do, — 
A spear of simple green, 
With only butterflies to brood, 
And bees to entertain, 

And stir all day to pretty tunes 
The breezes fetch along. 
And hold the sunshine in its lap, 
And bow to everything ; 

And thread the dews all night, like pearls, 
And make itself so fine, — 
A duchess were too common 
For such a noticing. 

And even when it dies, to pass 
In odors so divine, 
As lowly spices gone to sleep. 
Or amulets of pine. 

And then to dwell in sovereign barns. 
And dream the days away, — 
The grass so little has to do, 
I wish I were the hay ! 

1 From Poems by Emily Dickinson, copyright, 1890, by Roberts Brothers. 



WRITTEN IN MARCH 93 

THE BROOK 1 
John B. Tabb 

John B. Tabb (1845- 1909) was a Catholic priest and the author of 
many brief, enjoyable lyrics. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature^ pp. 318-320, 338. 

It is the mountain to the sea 
That makes a messenger of me : 
And, lest I loiter on the way 
And lose what I am sent to say, 
He sets his reverie to song 
And bids me sing it all day long. 
Farewell ! for here the stream is slow, 
And I have many a mile to go. 

WRITTEN IN MARCH 

William Wordsworth 

William Wordsworth (i 770-1850) is England's greatest nature poet. 
Nature seemed to him to possess a conscious soul and to enter into the 
joys and sorrows of man. He thought that every flower enjoyed the 
air it breathed. He was bor^ in the wonderful Lake District in north- 
western England, where he wrote most of his poetry and passed almost 
all his life. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 5, 386-398, 443, 445. 

The cock is crowing, 
The stream is flowing, 
The small birds twitter, 
The lake doth glitter, 
The green field sleeps in the sun ; 
The oldest and youngest 

1 From Poems by John B. Tabb, copyright, 1894. Used by permission of the pub- 
lishers, Small, Maynard, and Company . 



94 A GROUP OF NATURE LYRICS 

Are at work with the strongest ; 
The cattle are grazing, 
Their heads never raising ; 
There are forty feeding Hke one ! 

Like an army defeated 

The snow hath retreated, 

And now doth fare ill 

On the top of the bare hill ; 
The plowboy is whooping — anon- anon : 

There's joy in the mountains ; 

There's Ufe in the fountains ; 

Small clouds are sailing, 

Blue sky prevaihng ; 
The rain is over and gone. 

SONG FROM PIPPA PASSES 
Robert Browning 

Robert Browning (i 812-1889), the author of stirring lyric and dra- 
matic poems, was born at Camberwell, a suburb of London. He is a 
poet of great originality and force. He loved to write of the trials and 
growth of human souls. This song of the little silk weaver, Pippa, is 
a message which she unconsciously conveys to two sinful souls as she 
passes their house. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 540-553, 585. 

Chesterton's Robert Browning. 

The year's at the spring 
And day's at the morn ; 
Morning's at seven : 
The hill-side's dew-pearled ; 
The lark's on the wing ; 
The snail's on the thorn : 
God's in his Heaven — 
All's right with the world ! 



SONG FROM PIPPA PASSES 95 

STUDY HINTS 

After reading these lyrics twice aloud to yourself, study them so as 
to be able to read them more intelligently to some of 3^our friends. If 
you read them well, see if your friends do not say that they would like 
to hear more as good. Memorize the stanzas that you like best. 

When you read Stevenson's poem, remember that not only children 
but the grown Greeks and Romans personified the winds. Homer and 
Vergil tell how Ulysses and ^Eneas suffered from hostile winds. One 
of the greatest lyrics of the English poet, Shelley (1792-1822), begins : 
"O wild west wind, thou breath of Autumn's being." 

The Evening Wind is one of the fine lyrics of the American poet Bryant 
(1794-1878). Stevenson's poem is the simplest of them all and perhaps 
the most widely read. 

After the second reading of The Grass, tell in prose what the grass does, 
then reread the verse and notice how much more enjoyable it is. Is this 
poem as simple as The Wind ? Is there any hint of humor in either poem ? 

What is the central idea in The Brook? Who sends the message? 
How does he make sure that it will not be forgotten? Will this poem 
increase our pleasure in listening to the music of an actual brook? Is 
this poem as simple as the two preceding ones ? 

In reading Wordsworth's Written in March, we should remember that 
the English spring comes early. After the two readings aloud, try to 
tell what Wordsworth saw and heard. Of all the things mentioned, 
which appeal to you most? Which of these poems is the easiest to 
understand ? ^ 

Note that each line in Browning's Song from Pip pa Passes is a com- 
plete sentence and that the verb in each line is "is" (abbreviated to 's). 
The existence of such beautiful things proves to the poet that God is in 
heaven and consequently that "All's right with the world." To Brown- 
ing these lines were probably as self-evident and as simple as any in the 
preceding poems. Are they so to you ? Which of these five poems do you 
prefer to-day, even if you change your mind when you feel differently? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Windy Nights (from A ChiWs Garden of Verse). Robert Louis 
Stevenson. 

Who Robbed the Woods ? Emily Dickinson. 



96 A GROUP OF NATURE LYRICS 

The Wind in the Chimney. Bret Harte. 
The Evening Wind. William CuUen Bryant. 
The Wind of Spring. Madison Cawein. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Ode to the West Wind. Percy Bysshe Shelley. 
The Voice of the Grass. Sarah Roberts Boyle. 
A Song of Clover. Helen Hunt Jackson. 
Before the Rain. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 

A. Child said, What is the Grass? (from a Song of Myself, Section VI). 
Walt Whitman. 

The Brook. Alfred Tennyson. 

Clear and Cool (from Water Babies). Charles Kingsley. 

The Fountain. James Russell Lowell. 

The Waterfall. Frank Dempster Sherman. 

Arethusa. Percy Bysshe Shelley. 

March. William Cullen Bryant. 

Spring. William Blake. 

Spring. Celia Thaxter. 

Spring Song. Bliss Carman. 

How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to A ix. Robert Browning. 

Boot and Saddle. Robert Browning. 

Muleykeh. Robert Browning. 

The Pied Piper of Hamelin. Robert Browning, 



HOW MR. RABBIT WAS TOO SHARP FOR 
MR. FOXi 

Joel Chandler Harris 

Joel Chandler Harris (1848-1908) was born in Georgia. He lived on 
a plantation and heard from early childhood the stories told by the 
negroes. Later in life, realizing that they were a part of the folklore 
that the negro brought from Africa, he collected these stories. The col- 
lection, of which the chief narrator is "Uncle Remus," holds a unique 
place in American literature, and possesses a perennial interest for old 
and young. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 320-323, 338, 340. 

Introduction to Uncle Remus, His Songs and His Sayings, by Joel 
Chandler Harris. 

[Brer Fox had made a Tar-Baby on purpose to excite Brer Rabbit's 
curiosity and trap him. Brer Rabbit had attacked Tar-Baby because he 
would not answer Brer Rabbit's questions. The result was he was stuck 
fast to Tar-Baby. The story opens at this point.] 



''Uncle Remus," said the little boy one evening, when 
he had found the old man with little or nothing to do, ''did 
the fox kill and eat the rabbit when he caught him with the 
Tar-Baby?" 

"Law, honey, ain't I tell you 'bout dat?" replied the old 
darky, chuckling slyly. "I 'clar ter grashus I ought er 
tole you dat, but old man Nod wuz ridin' on my eyeleds 'twel 
a leetle mo'n I'd a dis'member'd my own name, en den on to 
dat, here come yo' mammy hollerin' atter you. 

1 Copyright, 1880, 1908, by D. /ippleton and Company. This selection and itsillus. 
trations are used in this volume by special arrangement with the publishers. 
H. & B. READINGS — ^ gy 



98 



JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS 



''Wat I tell you w'en I fus begin ? I tole you Brer Rabbit 
wuz a monstus soon^ creetur ; leas'ways dat's w'at I laid out 
fer ter tell you. Well, den, honey, don't you go en make no 
udder calkalashuns, kase in dem days Brer Rabbit en his 
fambly wuz at de head er de gang w'en enny racket wuz on 
han', en dar dey stayed. 'Fo you begins fer ter wipe yo' 
eyes 'bout Brer Rabbit, you wait en see whar'bouts Brer 
Rabbit gwineter fetch up at. But dat's needer yer ner dar. 
"W'en Brer Fox fine Brer Rabbit mixt up wid de Tar- 
Baby, he feel mighty good, en he roll on de groun' en laff. 

Bimeby he up'n say, 
sezee : 

'''Well, I speck I 
got you dis time, 
Brer Rabbit,' sezee ; 
'maybe I ain't, but 
I speck I is. You 
been runnin' roun' 
here sassin' atter me 
a mighty long time, 
but I speck you 
done come ter de 
You bin cuttin' up yo' capers en bouncin' 
'roun in dis neighborhood ontwel ^ you come ter b'leeve 
yo'se'f de boss er de whole gang. En den youer allers 
some'rs whar you got no bizness,' sez Brer Fox, sezee. 'Who 
ax you fer ter come en strike up a 'quaintance wid dish yer 
Tar-Baby ? En who stuck you up dar whar you is ? Nobody 
in de roun' worril. You des tuck en jam yo'se'f on dat Tar- 
Baby widout waitin' fer enny invite,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 
' en dar you is, en dar you'll stay twel I fixes up a bresh-pile 
and fires her up, kase I'm gwineter bobbycue ^ you dis day, 
sho,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, 

1 Quick-witted. " I.e. until. ^ Barbecue, roast-whole. 




enn' er de row. 



MR. RABBIT TOO SHARP FOR MR. FOX 



99 



"Den Brer Rabbit talk mighty 'umble. 

"*I don't keer w'at you do wid me, Brer Fox,' sezee, 'so 
you don't fling me in dat brier patch. Roas' me. Brer Fox,' 
sezee, 'but don't fling me in dat brier patch,' sezee. 

"'Hit's so much trouble fer ter kindle a fier,' sez Brer Fox, 
sezee, 'dat I speck I'll hatter hang you,' sezee. 

'"Hang me des as high as you please. Brer Fox,' sez Brer 
Rabbit, sezee, 'but do fer de Lord's sake don't fling me in dat 
brier patch,' sezee. 

"'I ain't got no string,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, "en now I 
speck I'll hatter drown you,' sezee. 

"'Drown me des ez deep ez you please, Brer Fox,' sez Brer 
Rabbit, sezee, 'but do don't fling me in dat brier patch,' sezee. 

"'Dey ain't no water nigh,' sez Brer Fox, sezee, ' 'en now I 
speck I'll hatter skin you,' sezee. 

"'Skin me. Brer Fox,' sez Brer Rabbit, sezee, 'snatch out 
my eyeballs, t'ar out my years ^ by de roots, en cut off my 
legs,' sezee, 'but do 
please. Brer Fox, 
don't fling me in 
dat brier patch,' 
sezee. 

"Co'se Brer Fox 
wanter hurt Brer 
Rabbit bad ez he 
kin, so he cotch 'im 
by de behime legs 
en slung 'im right 
in de middle er de 
brier patch. Dar 
wuz a considerbul 

flutter whar Brer Rabbit struck de bushes, en Brer Fox 
sorter hang 'roun' fer J:er see w'at wuz gwineter happen. 

1 Ears. 




lOO JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS 

Bimeby he hear somebody call 'im, en way up de hill he 
see Brer Rabbit settin' cross-legged on a chinkapin log 
koamin' de pitch outen his har wid a chip. Den Brer Fox 
know dat he bin swop off mighty bad. Brer Rabbit wuz 
bleedzed ^ f er ter fling back some er his sass, en he holler out : 
" 'Bred en bawn in a brier patch, Brer Fox — bred en bawn 
in a brier patch ! ' en wid dat he skip out des ez lively ez a 
cricket in de embers." 

STUDY HINTS 

Note how Brer Fox enjoys worrying Brer Rabbit with planning the 
various forms of his death. Why are Brer Rabbit's replies to Brer Fox's 
suggestions very wise? Does Brer Rabbit ever lose sight of his pur- 
pose? Would there be any difference in your facial expression and 
other actions if a wealthy pompous man or a ragged cripple slipped in a 
mud puddle? How is suspense employed in this story? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Tell oraUy in your own language at least two of the other stories of 
Uncle Remus and one or two by some other author, for instance by 
Kipling. Tell a short story of an animal that has played a clever trick. 

After comparing some of Kipling's animal stories, such as those in 
the Just So Stories and the Jungle Books, with those by Joel Chandler 
Harris, write one story of your own. Try writing a part of this in the 
form of a dialogue. Note in the above selection how the dialogue form is 
paragraphed and punctuated. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Nights with Uncle Remus. Joel Chandler Harris. 
Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings. Joel Chandler Harris. 
A Story of the War (from Uncle Remus: His Songs and His Sayings). 
Joel Chandler Harris. 

A Story of Seven Devils (in A?nos Kilbright). Frank R. Stockton. 
Marse Chan (from In Ole Virginia). Thomas Nelson Page. 

1 Obliged. 



MR. RABBIT TOO SHARP FOR MR. FOX lOl 

Meh Lady (from In Ole Virginia). Thomas Nelson Page. 

Polly. Thomas Nelson Page, 

Bred in the Bone. Thomas Nelson Page. 

Solomon Crow's Christmas Pockets. Ruth McEnery Stuart. 

Sonny. Ruth McEnery Stuart. 

Moriah's Mournin'. Ruth McEnery Stuart. 

^sop's Fables :' 

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing. The Crow and the Pitcher. 

The Fox and the Grapes. Belling the Cat. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story, The Story of the Deluge and How It 
Came About, Mr. Fox is Again Victimized, Miss Cow Falls a Victim to 
Mr. Rabbit (from Uncle Remus ; His Songs and His Sayings) . 

Kipling's Rikki-Tikki-Tavi (Jungle Book, I). 

Grahame's The River Bank (The Wind in the Willows). 



CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL IN THE DUNGEON ^ 

John Bunyan 

John Bunyan (1628-1688), born in a little village of England, was the 
son of a tinker, and followed his father's trade for several years. When 
grown, he became a preacher but was arrested for preaching without the 
sanction of the Episcopal Church, and thrown into prison. During his 
twelve years of imprisonment, he wrote Pilgrim's Progress, the greatest 
of all allegories.2 It is the story of Christian's journey through this life. 
He has many experiences, such as with Faintheart, Mr. Worldly Wise- 
man, Giant Despair, and others, but finally reaches his destination, 
the Celestial City. Bunyan knew the Bible from end to end, and its 
influence is clearly seen in the simple, direct language of this story. He 
was finally allowed to return to his preaching, which he continued with 
the greatest enthusiasm until his death. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 228-233. 

Macaulay's Essay on Southey's Edition of the Pilgrim'' s Progress. 

Macaulay's Life of Bunyan in his Essays. 

Now there was, not far from the place where they lay, a 
castle, called Doubting Castle, the owner whereof was Giant 
Despair, and it was in his grounds they now were sleeping. 
Wherefore he, getting up in the morning early, and walking 
up and down in his fields, caught Christian and Hopeful 
asleep in his grounds. Then with a grim and surly voice 
he bid them awake, and asked them whence they were, and 
what they did in his grounds. They told him they were 
pilgrims, and that they had lost their way. Then said the 
giant, "You have this night trespassed on me by trampling 
in and lying on my grounds, and therefore you must go along 

1 From The Pilgrim's Progress (1678). 

2 An allegory is a story told with the purpose of teaching a moral lesson. The char- 
acters are usually personified qualities. 

102 



CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL IN THE DUNGEON 103 




with me." So they were forced to go, because he was stronger 
than they. 

Now Giant Despair had a wife, and her name v/as Diffi- 
dence. So when he was gone to bed he told his wife what 
he had done, to wit, that he had taken a couple of prisoners, 
and cast them into his dungeon for trespassing on his grounds. 
Then he asked her also what he had best do further to them. 
So she asked him what they were, whence they came, and 
whither they were bound, and he told her. Then she coun- 
seled him, that when he arose in the morning he should beat 
them without mercy. So when he arose, he getteth him a 
grievous crab-tree cudgel, and goes down into the dungeon 
to them, and there first falls to rating of them as if they 
were dogs, although they gave him never a word of distaste. 
Then he falls upon them, and beats them fearfully, in such 
sort that they were not able to help themselves, or to turn 
them upon the floor. This done, he withdraws and leaves 
them there to condole their misery, and to mourn under 
their distress : so all that day they spent the time in nothing 
but sighs and bitter lamentations. The next night, she, 
talking with her husband further about them, and under- 
standing that they were yet alive, did advise him to counsel 
them to make away wii^ themselves. So when morning was 



I04 JOHN BUNYAN 

come, he goes to them in a surly manner, as before, and per- 
ceiving them to be very sore with the stripes that he had given 
them the day before, he told them that since they were never 
like to come out of that place, their only way would be forth- 
with to make an end of themselves, either with knife, halter, 
or poison. "For why," said he, "should you choose to live, 
seeing it is attended with so much bitterness?" But they 
desired him to let them go. With that he looked ugly upon 
them, and rushing to them, had doubtless made an end of 
them himself, but that he fell into one of his fits (for he some- 
times in sunshiny weather fell into fits) and lost for a time the 
use of his hands ; wherefore he withdrew, and left them as 
before to consider what to do. 

Well, towards evening the giant goes down into the dun- 
geon again, to see if his prisoners had taken his counsel. But 
when he came there he found them alive; and truly, alive 
was all ; for now, what for want of bread and water, and by 
reason of the wounds they received when he beat them, they 
could do little but breathe. But I say he found them alive ; 
at which he fell into a grievous rage, and told them that 
seeing they had disobeyed his counsel, it should be worse 
with them than if they had never been born. 

Now the night being come again, his wife asked the giant 
concerning the prisoners, and if they had taken his counsel : 
to which he replied, "They are sturdy rogues; they choose 
rather to bear all hardships than to make away with them- 
selves." Then said she, "Take them into the castle yard 
to-morrow, and show them the bones and skulls of those that 
thou hast already dispatched, and make them believe, ere 
a week comes to an end, thou wilt tear them in pieces, as 
thou hast done their fellows before them." 

So when the morning was come, the giant goes to them 
again, and takes them into the castle yard, and shows them 
as his wife had bidden him. "These," said he, "were pil- 



CHRISTIAN AND HOPEFUL IN THE DUNGEON 105 

grims, as you are, oncCj and they trespassed on my grounds, 
as you have done; and when I thought fit I tore them in 
pieces ; and so within ten days I will do you ; get you down 
to your den again." And with that he beat them all the 
way thither. They lay therefore all day on Saturday in a 
lamentable case, as before. 

Now, a little before it was day, good Christian, as one half 
amazed, broke out into this passionate speech: ''What a 
fool," quoth he, "am I, thus to lie in a stinking dungeon, 
when I may as well walk at liberty I I have a key in my 
bosom, called Promise, that will, I am persuaded, open any 
lock in Doubting Castle." Then said Hopeful, "That is good 
news; good brother, pluck it out of thy bosom, and try." 

Then Christian pulled it out of his bosom, and began to 
try at the dungeon door, whose bolt, as he turned the key, 
gave back, and the door flew open with ease, and Christian 
and Hopeful both came out. Then he went to the outward 
door that leads into the castle yard, and with his key opened 
that door also. After that he went to the iron gate, for that 
must be opened too; but that lock went desperately hard, 
yet the key did open it. Then they thrust open the gate to 
make their escape with speed ; but that gate, as it opened, 
made such a creaking_vthat it waked Giant Despair, who 
hastily rising to pursue his prisoners, felt his limbs to fail, 
for his fits took him again, so that he could by no means go 
after them. Then they went on, and came to the King's 
highway, and so were safe, because they were out of his 
jurisdiction, 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

doubt disobey fly, flew, flown 

dungeon prisoners lose, lost, lost 

grievous desperately choose, chose, chosen 

counsel lie, lay, lain trespassed 



io6 JOHN BUNYAN 

This story is told in so simple and direct a way that it can be readily 
understood without questions. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

In which of the stories you have read so far, is there much conversa- 
tion? In Zenobia's Infidelity does the boy talk to the doctor naturally? 
Does he say what is necessary for his purpose, and no more? In How 
Mr. Rabbit Was Too Sharp for Mr. Fox, how much of the story is in con- 
versation? Does it add to the interest? When writing dialogue, i.e. 
a conversation between two, for a play, do not write "he said," or similar 
terms, as you would in the case of novels or short stories. Each time 
there is a change of speaker, write the speaker's name on the left on a 
new line and follow it with a colon, then begin the speech as you would 
begin a sentence. Try to have your speakers express themselves natu- 
rally. Perhaps you can give a conversation you have overheard in some 
public place. 

Write in the form of dialogues the indicated conversations between 
the giant and the pilgrims, and the giant and his wife. Write their 
names under the heading Characters. Take each episode after you 
have written the dialogue and write the place, the time, and a heading 
for the episode, as, for example. 

Act I., Doubting Castle, — Early Morning. 
Giant Despair's Discovery of the Pilgrims. 

Can you make a complete outline of four acts? Try to do the same 
in Hop 0* My Thumb, or Jack the Giant Killer, or any similar fairy tale. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

From The Pilgrim's Progress: 

The Slough of Despond. At the House Beautiful. 

Mr. Great Heart. The Celestial City. 

The Great Stone Face (in The Snow Image) . Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
Dr. Heidegger's Experiment (in Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel Haw- 
thorne. 

The Man Without a Country. Edward Everett Hale. 
The Dawn of To-morrow. Frances Hodgson Burnett. 



SKIPPER IRESON'S RIDE ^ 

John Greenleaf Whittier 

The Quaker poet, John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892), was born in 
Haverhill, Massachusetts. He received only two years of academic 
training. He edited and contributed to newspapers for over twenty 
years, and published during that time many volumes of poems. His 
Snow Bound is a perfect picture of a New England country home. See 
also: 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 234-244, 284. 

Carpenter's John Greenleaf Whittier. 

Perry's John Greenleaf Whittier. 

Pickard's Life and Letters of John Greenleaf Whittier; and Whittier- 
Land. 

I . Or all the rides, since the birth of time, 
Told in story or sung in rime — 
On Apuleius's Golden Ass,^ 
Or one-eyed Calendar's horse of brass,^ 
Witch astride o| a human hack, 
Islam's prophet ^ on Al-Borak ^ — 
The strangest ride that ever was sped 
Was Ireson's, out from Marblehead ! 
Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart. 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead ! 

1 This poem is used by permission of, and by arrangement with, Houghton Mifflin 
Company, authorized publishers of Whittier 's works. 

2 The Golden Ass, the most celebrated book of Apuleius, a Roman philosopher of the 
second century a.d. 

3 A story from Arabian Nights Entertainments. * Mohammed. 
^ A wondrous animal on which Mohammed rode from Mecca to Jerusalem. 

107 



io8 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 

2. Body of turkey, head of owl, 
Wings a-droop like a rained-on fowl, 
Feathered and rufSed in every part, 
Skipper Ireson stood in the cart. 
Scores of women, old and young, 
Strong of muscle, and glib of tongue, 
Pushed and pulled up the rocky lane. 
Shouting and singing the shrill refrain : 

"Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, 

Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt 

By the women o' Morble'ead !" 

3. Wrinkled scolds with hands on hips, 
Girls in bloom of cheek and lips. 
Wild-eyed, free-limbed, such as chase 
Bacchus ^ round some antique vase. 
Brief of skirt, with ankles bare. 
Loose of kerchief and loose of hair. 

With conch-shells blowing and fish-horns' twang, 
Over and over the Maenads ^ sang : 
"Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, 
Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt 
By the women o' Morble'ead !" 

4. Small pity for him ! — he sailed away 
From a leaking ship in Chaleur Bay ^ — 
Sailed away from a sinking wreck. 
With his own townspeople on her deck ! 
"Lay by ! lay by !" they called to him ; 
Back he answered, "Sink or swim ! 
Brag of your catch of fish again !" 

And off he sailed through the fog and rain ! 

» The god of wine. 

2 Priestesses of Bacchus who became frenzied when they danced in his train. 

3 An inlet in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. 



SKIPPER IRESON'S RIDE 109 

Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead I 

5. Fathoms deep in dark Chaleur 
That wreck shall lie for evermore. 
Mother and sister, wife and maid, 
Looked from the rocks of Marblehead 
Over the moaning and rainy sea — 
Looked for the coming that might not be I 
What did the winds and the sea birds say 
Of the cruel captain who sailed away ? — 

Old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead ! 

6. Through the street, on either side, 
Up liew windows^ doors swung wide, 
Sharp-tongued spinsters, old wives gray, 
Treble lent the fish-horn's bray. 
Sea-worn grandsires, cripple-bound. 
Hulks of old sailors run aground. 
Shook head and fist and hat and cane. 
And cracked with curses the hoarse refrain : 

"Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, 

Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt 

By the women o' Morble'ead !" 

7. Sweetly along the Salem road 
Bloom of orchard and lilac showed. 
Little the wicked skipper knew 

Of the fields so green and the sky so blue. 
Riding there in his sorry trim. 
Like an Indian idol glum and grim, 



no JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 

Scarcely he seemed the sound to hear 

Of voices shouting far and near : 

"Here's Flud Oirson, fur his horrd horrt, 

Torr'd an' futherr'd an' corr'd in a corrt 

By the women o' Morble'ead ! " 

8. "Hear me, neighbors !" at last he cried — 
"What to me is this noisy ride? 

What is the shame that clothes the skin 
To the nameless horror that lives within? 
Waking or sleeping, I see a wreck, 
And hear a cry from a reeling deck ! 
Hate me and curse me — I only dread 
The hand of God and the face of the dead !" 
Said old Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead ! 

9. Then the wife of the skipper lost at sea 

Said, ^^God has touched him I — why should we?" 
Said an old wife mourning her only son, 
"Cut the rogue^s tether, and let him run /" 
So with soft relentings and rude excuse. 
Half scorn, half pity, they cut him loose, 
And gave him a cloak to hide him in. 
And left him alone with his shame and sin. 
Poor Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, 
Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart 
By the women of Marblehead ! 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

refrain rime treble 

loose horror scorn 

glum relenting feathered 

nameless neighbors lilac 



SKIPPER IRESON'S RIDE ill 

At what season of the year did this event occur ? What difference in 
emotion is expressed in stanzas 3 and 5 ? Find a picture of an antique 
vase in a history of Greece or Rome, or look at a piece of old Wedg- 
wood pottery. You will then understand stanza 3 better. What 
makes the skipper seem so glum? Was he moved by his disgrace? 
Why ? Who were the first to suggest that he be set free ? Would you 
have set him free? Can you find any reason for the changes in the 
refrain ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Mabel Martin. John Greenleaf Whittier. 

The Barefoot Boy. John Greenleaf Whittier. 

Maud Midler. John Greenleaf Whittier. 

The Inchcape Rock. Robert Southey. 

The Wreck of the Hesperus. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

Alec Yeaton's Son. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 

Goody Blake and Harry Gill. William Wordsworth. 



THE TWO MATCHES! 

Robert Louis Stevenson 

Robert Louis Stevenson (i 850-1 894) was born in Edinburgh, Scot- 
land. From early boyhood he was so interested in learning to write 
that he carried two books in his pocket, one to read, the other for writ- 
ing. This strong love for writing forced him to drop all other forms of 
work and to adopt the profession of letters. After seeking health in 
many places he settled in Samoa, where his talent won from the natives 
the name Tusitala, "teller of tales." The road to his home was con- 
structed by the natives, who, to show their love for him, named it, "The 
Road of the Loving Heart." He died in Samoa and lies buried on the 
top of a mountain in the village of Apia. No one who reads his books. 
Treasure Island, for example, would think that the author had to struggle 
against illness every day for fourteen years. His writings are full of 
courage and joyousness. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 516-523, 583. 

Balfour's The Life of Robert Louis Stevenson. 

One day there was a traveler in the woods in Cali- 
fornia, in the dry season, when the trades were blowing 
strong. He had ridden a long way, and he was tired and 
hungry, and dismounted from his horse to smoke a pipe. 
But when he felt in his pocket, he found but two matches. 
He struck the first, and it would not light. 

"Here is a pretty state of things," said the traveler. 
" Dying for a smoke ; only one match left ; and that certain 
to miss fire ! Was there ever a creature so unfortunate ? 
And yet," thought the traveler, "suppose I light this match, 
and smoke my pipe, and shake out the dottle here in the grass 
— the grass might catch on fire, for it is dry like tinder ; 
and while I snatch out the flames in front, they might evade 

» From Fables (1887). 
112 



THE TWO MATCHES 113 

and run behind me, and seize upon yon bush of poison oak ; 
before I could reach it, that would have blazed up ; over the 
bush I see a pine tree hung with moss ; that too would fly in 
fire upon the instant to its topmost bough ; and the flame 
of that long torch — how would the trade wind take and 
brandish that through the inflammable forest ! I hear this 
dell roar in a moment with the joint voice of wind and fire, 
I see myself gallop for my soul, and the flying conflagration 
chase and outflank me through the hills ; I see this pleasant 
forest burn for days, and the cattle roasted, and the springs 
dried up, and the farmer ruined, and his children cast upon 
the world. What a world hangs upon this moment !" 

With that he struck the match, and it missed fire. 

''Thank God," said the traveler, and put his pipe in his 
pocket. 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

traveler evade ride, rode, ridden 

unfortunate inflammable seize 

tinder conflagration run, ran, run 

What is the situation at the opening of this story? Could a single 
match have started all the trouble that the traveler feared ? What was 
certain to result if he did not try to strike the match ? Was he too much 
exercised over the matter? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

The Two Matches is a fable. Look up "fable" in a dictionary and see 
if you can understand why this is one. Read one of -^sop's fables, and 
tell it to the class. Explain the difference between a fable and other 
short stories. Write a fable on a subject of your own selection, or on 

one of these : 

No Cloud Without a Silver Lining. 

All is Not Gold That Glisters. 

Nothing V^ture, Nothing Have. 

A Stitch in Time Saves Nine. 

H. & B. READINGS — 8 



114 ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 

What is Forestry? Some Forestry Laws in my State. 

The Duties of a Forester. Tree Surgery. 

How Forestry May Control Floods. Our National Forests. 

The Best Way to Make a Camp How to Make a Fire Without a 
Fire. Match. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Kidnapped. Robert Louis Stevenson. 

The Master of Ballantrae, Robert Louis Stevenson. 

Sire De Maletroit's Door. Robert Louis Stevenson. 

^sop's Fables: 

The Dog in the Manger. The Lion in Love. 

The Horse, Hunter, and Stag. The Town Mouse and the Country 

The Shepherd Boy. Mouse. 

The Wind and the Sun. The Goose with the Golden Eggs. 



THE BALLAD OF THE OYSTERMAN ^ 

Oliver Wendell Holmes 

Oliver Wendell Holmes (i 809-1 894) was born in Cambridge, Massa- 
chusetts, in the same year as Abraham Lincoln. He belonged to the 
group of writers known as the New England Group, which included 
Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Whittier, and Lowell. He 
wrote novels, essays, and^oems, all of which show a delightful vein of 
humor. In his poetry the humor is particularly rolHcking, as is plainly 
shown in the selection given below. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 258-265, 284. 

Morse's Life and Letters of Oliver Wendell Holmes. 

It was a tall young oysterman lived by the riverside, 
His shop was just upon the bank, his boat was on the tide ; 
The daughter of a fisherman, that was so straight and slim, 
Lived over on the other bank, right opposite to him. 

It was the pensive oysterman that saw a lovely maid. 
Upon a moonlight evening, a-sitting in the shade ; 
He saw her wave a hand^kerchief , as much as if to say, 
''I'm wide awake, young oysterman, and all the folks away." 

Then up rose the oysterman, and to himself said he, 

"I guess I'll leave the skiff at home, for fear that folks should 

see; 
I read it in the story book, that, for to kiss his dear, 
Leander swam the Hellespont ^ — and I will swim this here." 

1 This poem is used by permission of, and by arrangement with, Houghton MiflBin 
Company, authorized publishers of Holmes's works. 

2 Leander loved Hero, and visited her every night by swimming across the Hellespont. 
He was drowned in a storm, and Hero, in her grief, flung herself into the water. 

IIS 



ii6 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 

And he has leaped into the waves, and crossed the shining 

stream, 
And he has clambered up the bank, all in the moonlight gleam ; 
Oh, there are kisses sweet as dew, and words as soft as rain — 
But they have heard her father's steps, and in he leaps again ! 

Out spoke the ancient fisherman: "Oh, what was that, my 

daughter?" 
'"Twas nothing but a pebble, sir, I threw into the water." 
"And what is that, pray tell me, love, that paddles off so 

fast?" 
"It's nothing but a porpoise, sir, that's been a-swimming 

past." 

Out spoke the ancient fisherman: "Now bring me my har- 
poon! 

I'll get into my fishing boat, and fix the fellow soon." 

Down fell the pretty innocent, as falls a snow-white lamb ; 

Her hair drooped round her pallid cheeks, like seaweed on a 
clam. 

Alas for those two loving ones ! she waked not from her 

swound. 
And he was taken with the cramp, and in the waves was 

drowned; 
But Fate has metamorphosed ^ them, in pity of their woe. 
And now they keep an oyster shop for mermaids down below. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Deacon's Masterpiece. Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
The Diverting History of John Gilpin. William Cowper. 
The Walrus and the Carpenter. Lewis Carroll. 
The Courtin\ James Russell Lowell. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 
The Chambered Nautilus and The Boys, by Holmes. 

^ Changed. 



THREE SEA PICTURES AND A MORAL 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge 

Samuel Taylor Coleridge (i 772-1834) was born in Devonshire, Eng- 
land. He was a daydreamer from early childhood. For many years 
Coleridge lived in the Lake Country and he is known as one of the Lake 
Poets. The Ancient Mariner, from which these selections are taken, 
was composed while the poet was on a walking tour with his friends, 
Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy. It is his poetical masterpiece. 
See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 39S-406, 

Herford's The Age of Wordsworth (Coleridge). 

Traill's Coleridge. 

Caine's Life of Coleridge. 



The Antarctic Ocean and the Albatross 

And now there came both mist and snow, 
And it grew wondrous cold : 
And ice, mast-high, came floating by, 
As green as emerald. 

And through the drifts the snowy clifts 
Did send a dismal sheen : 
Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken — 
The ice was all between. 

The ice was here, the ice was there, 
The ice was all around : 

It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, 
Like voices in a swound ! 

117 



ii8 



SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE 



At length did cross an Albatross/ 
Thorough ^ the fog it came ; 
As if it had been a Christian soul, 
We hailed it in God's name. 

It ate the food it ne'er had eat, 
And round and round it flew. 
The ice did split with a thunder-fit ; 
The helmsman steered us through ! 

And a good south wind sprung up behind ; 

The Albatross did follow. 

And every day, for food or play. 

Came to the mariner's hollo ! 

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, 

It perched for vespers nine ; 

While all the night, through fog-smoke white, 

Glimmered the white moonshine. 

" God save thee, ancient Mariner ! 
From the fiends that plague thee thus ! — 
Why look'st thou so?" — "With my crossbow 
I shot the Albatross." 




^ A large sea bird. 



Through. 



THREE SEA TICTURES AND A MORAL 119 

II 

Daytime on the Tropical Ocean 

All in a hot and copper sky, 
The bloody sun, at noon. 
Right up above the mast did stand, 
No bigger than the moon. 

Day after day, day after day. 
We stuck, nor breath nor motion ; 
As idle as a painted ship 
Upon a painted ocean. 

Water, water, everywhere, 
And all the boards did shrink ; 
Water, water, everywhere 
Nor any drop to drink. 

Ill 

Nighttime on the Tropical Ocean 

The moving moon went up the sky, 
And nowhere did abide : 
Softly she was going up, 
And a star or Xwo beside — 

Her beams bemocked the sultry main, 
Like April hoarfrost spread ; 
But where the ship's huge shadow lay, 
The charmed water burnt alway 
A still and awful red. 

Beyond the shadow of the ship, 

I watched the water snakes ; 

They moved in tracks of shining white, 

And when the}^reared, the elfish light 

Fell off in hoary flakes. 



I20 SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE 

Within the shadow of the ship 

I watched their rich attire ; 

Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, 

They coiled and swam ; and every track 

Was a flash of golden fire. 

O happy living things ! no tongue 

Their beauty might declare : 

A spring of love gushed from my heart. 

And I blessed them unaware : 

Sure my kind saint took pity on me, 

And I blessed them unaware. 

The selfsame moment I could pray ; 
And from my neck so free 
The Albatross fell off, and sank 
Like lead into the sea. 

IV 

The Moral 

O Wedding- Guest ! this soul hath been 
Alone on a wide wide sea : 
So lonely, 'twas, that God himself 
Scarce seemed there to be. 

O sweeter than the marriage feast, 
'Tis sweeter far to me, 
To walk together to the kirk,^ 
With a goodly company ! — 

To walk together to the kirk, 

And all together pray, 

While each to his great Father bends, 

Old men, and babes, and loving friends 

And youths and maidens gay ! 

1 Church. 



THREE SEA PICTURES AND A MORAL I2i 

Farewell, farewell ! but this I tell 
To thee, thou Wedding- Guest ! 
He prayeth well, who loveth well 
Both man and bird and beast. 

He prayeth best, who loveth best 
All things both great and small ; 
For the dear God who loveth us, 
He made and loveth all. 



STUDY HINTS 

Try to see each picture vividly as it is painted. Contrast the three. 

I. Why did the sailors welcome the albatross so joyfully? Judging 
from his hearer's question, how do you think the Ancient Mariner looked 
when he spoke of killing the bird? What circumstances made his deed 
seem more heinous? 

II. Contrast the stillness of this with the preceding scene. What 
effect does the repetition of such phrases as "day after day "produce on 
you? 

III. Is this scene as full of action as I ? Is it as quiet as II ? What 
is the difference in each case ? 

The albatross had been hung around the Mariner's neck by the other 
sailors as a punishment. At what point does his punishment end ? 
Can you give a reason for this? Memorize at least the last eight lines. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Two Years Before the Mast. R. H. Dana, Jr. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Selections from Coleridge's Christabel, and Kubla Khan. 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 

Edgar Allan Poe 

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) was born in Boston. Being left an 
orphan at the age of three, he was adopted by a wealthy Virginian. In 
early manhood he offended his foster father, who finally disowned Poe. 
His life, a singularly unhappy one, was one long struggle with poverty. 
He perfected the short story and wrote very unusual poetry as well as 
prose. The Raven is his best-known poem. With the exception of Haw- 
thorne, America has produced no genius equal to Poe. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 293-306, 338. 

Woodberry's The Life of Edgar Allan Poe, Personal and Literary. 

Canby's The Short Story in English, Chapter XI (Poe). 

We had now reached the summit of the loftiest crag. For 
some minutes the old man seemed too much exhausted to 
speak. 

"Not long ago," said he at length, "and I could have guided 
you on this route as well as the youngest of my sons; but, 
about three years past, there happened to me an event such 
as never happened before to mortal man — or at least such 
as no man ever survived to tell of — and the six hours of 
deadly terror which I then endured have broken me up body 
and soul. You suppose me a very old man — but I am not. 
It took less than a single day to change these hairs from a jetty 
black to white, to weaken my limbs, and to unstring my nerves, 
so that I tremble at the least exertion, and am frightened at 
a shadow. Do you know I can scarcely look over this little 
cliff without getting giddy?" 

The "little cliff," upon whose edge he had so carelessly 
thrown himself down to rest that the weightier portion of his 

122 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 123 

body hung over it, while he was only kept from falling by the 
tenure of his elbow on its extreme and slippery edge — this 
"little cliff" arose, a sheer unobstructed precipice of black 
shining rock, some fifteen or sixteen hundred feet from the 
world of crags beneath us. Nothing would have tempted me 
to within half a dozen yards of its brink. In truth so deeply 
was I excited by the perilous position of my companion, that 
I fell at full length upon the ground, clung to the shrubs 
around me, and dared not even glance upward at the sky — 
while I struggled in vain to divest myself of the idea that the 
very foundations of the mountain were in danger from the 
fury of the winds. It was long before I could reason myself 
into sufficient courage to sit up and look out into the 
distance. 

"You must get over these fancies," said the guide, "for I 
have brought you here that you might have the best possible 
view of the scene of that event I mentioned — and to tell you 
the whole story with the spot just under your eye. 

"We are now," he continued, in that particularizing 
manner which distinguished him — "we are now close upon 
the Norwegian coast — in the sixty-eighth degree of latitude 

— in the great province of Nordland — and in the dreary 
district of Lofoden.^ J'he mountain upon whose top we sit is 
Helseggen, the Cloudy. Now raise yourself up a little higher 

— hold on to the grass if you feel giddy — so — and look out, 
beyond the belt of vapor beneath us, into the sea." 

I looked dizzily, and beheld a wide expanse of ocean, whose 
waters wore so inky a hue as to bring at once to my mind the 
Nubian geographer's account of the Mare Tenebrarum.^ A 
panorama more deplorably desolate no human imagination 
can conceive. To the right and left, as far as the eye could 
reach, there lay outstretched, like ramparts of the world, lines 
of horridly black and beetling cliff, whose character of gloom 

1 Islands west of Norway. * " Sea of Darkness," — the Atlantic. 



124 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

was but the more forcibly illustrated by the surf which reared 
high up against it its white and ghastly crest, howling and 
shrieking forever. Just opposite the promontory upon whose 
apex we were placed, and at a distance of some five or six 
miles out at sea, there was visible a small, bleak-looking 
island ; or, more properly, its position was discernible through 
the wilderness of surge in which it was enveloped. About 
two miles nearer the land arose another of smaller size, hid- 
eously craggy and barren, and encompassed at various inter- 
vals by a cluster of dark rocks. 

The appearance of the ocean, in the space between the 
more distant island and the shore, had something very unusual 
about it. Although, at the time, so strong a gale was blowing 
landward that a brig in the remote ofhng^ lay to under a 
double-reefed trysail, and constantly plunged her whole 
hull out of sight, still there was here nothing like a regular 
swell, but only a short, quick, angry cross dashing of water 
in every direction — as well in the teeth of the wind as other- 
wise. Of foam there was little except in the immediate 
vicinity of the rocks. 

"The island in the distance," resumed the old man, "is 
called by the Norwegians Vurrgh. The one midway is 
Moskoe. That a mile to the northward is Ambaaren. Yon- 
der are Iflesen, Hoeyholm, Kieldholm, Suarven, and Buck- 
holm. Farther off — between Moskoe and Vurrgh — are 
Otterholm, FHmen, Sandflesen, and Skarholm. These are 
the true names of the places — but why it has been thought 
necessary to name them at all is more than either you or I 
can understand. Do you hear anything? Do you see any 
change in the water?" 

We had now been about ten minutes upon the top of Hel- 
seggen, to which we had ascended from the interior of Lofo- 
den, so that we had caught no glimpse of the sea until it had 

^ Deep water off the shore. 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 125 

burst upon us from the summit. As the old man spoke, I 
became aware of a loud and gradually increasing sound, like 
the moaning of a vast herd of buffaloes upon an American 
prairie ; and at the same moment I perceived that what sea- 
men term the chopping character of the ocean beneath us, was 
rapidly changing into a current which set to the eastward. 
Even while I gazed, this current acquired a monstrous ve- 
locity. Each moment added to its speed — to its headlong 
impetuosity. In five minutes the whole sea, as far as Vurrgh, 
was lashed into ungovernable fury; but it was between 
Moskoe and the coast that the main uproar held its sway. 
Here the vast bed of the waters, seamed and scarred into a 
thousand conflicting channels, burst suddenl}^ into frenzied 
convulsion — heaving, boiling, hissing, — gyrating in gigantic 
and innumerable vortices, and all whirling and plunging on 
to the eastward with a rapidity which water never elsewhere 
assumes, except in precipitous descents. 

In a few minutes more, there came over the scene another 
radical alteration. The general surface grew somewhat more 
smooth, and the whirlpools, one by one, disappeared, while 
prodigious streaks of foam became apparent where none had 
been seen before. These streaks, at length, spreading out to 
a great distance, and^ entering into combination, took unto 
themselves the gyratory motion of the subsided vortices, and 
seemed to form the germ of another more vast. Suddenly — 
very suddenly — this assumed a distinct and definite exist- 
ence, in a circle of more than a mile in diameter. The edge 
of the whirl was represented by a broad belt of gleaming 
spray ; but no particle of this slipped into the mouth of the 
terrific funnel, whose interior, as far as the eye could fathom 
it, was a smooth, shining, and jet-black wall of water, inclined 
to the horizon at an angle of some forty-five degrees, speeding 
dizzily round and roupd with a swaying and sweltering mo- 
tion, and sending forth to the winds an appalling voice, half 



126 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

shriek, half roar, such as not even the mighty cataract of 
Niagara ever lifts up in its agony to heaven. 

The mountain trembled to its very base, and the rock 
rocked. I threw myself upon my face, and clung to the scant 
herbage in an excess of nervous agitation. 

"This," said I at length, to the old man — " this can be 
nothing else than the great whirlpool of the Maelstrom." ^ 

"So it is sometimes termed," said he. "We Norwegians 
call it the Moskoe-strom, from the island of Moskoe in the 
midway." . . . 

"You have had a good look at the whirl now," said the 
old man, "and if you will creep round this crag, so as to get 
in its lee, and deaden the roar of the water, I will tell you a 
story that will convince you I ought to know something of 
the Moskoe-strom." 

I placed myself as desired, and he proceeded. 

"Myself and my two brothers once owned a schooner- 
rigged smack of about seventy tons burden, with which we 
were in the habit of fishing among the islands beyond Mos- 
koe, nearly to Vurrgh. In all violent eddies at sea there is 
good fishing, at proper opportunities, if one has only the 
courage to attempt it; but among the whole of the Lofoden 
coastmen we three were the only ones who made a regular 
business of going out to the islands, as I tell you. The usual 
grounds are a great way lower down to the southward. There 
fish can be got at all hours, without much risk, and therefore 
these places are preferred. The choice spots over here among 
the rocks, however, not only yield the finest variety, but in 
far greater abundance ; so that we often got in a single day 
what the more timid of the craft could not scrape together 
in a week. In fact, we made it a matter of desperate specu- 
lation — the risk of life standing instead of labor, and courage 
answering for capital. 

^ Literally " grinding stream ." 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 127 

''We kept the smack in a cove about five miles higher up 
the coast than this ; and it was our practice, in fine weather, 
to take advantage of the fifteen minutes' slack to push across 
the main channel of the Moskoe-strom, far above the pool, 
and then drop down upon anchorage somewhere near Otter- 
holm, or Sandflesen, where the eddies are not so violent as 
elsewhere. Here we used to remain until nearly time for 
slack water again, when we .weighed and made for home. We 
never set out upon this expedition without a steady side wind 
for going and coming — one that we felt sure would not fail 
us before our return — and we seldom made a miscalculation 
upon this point. Twice, during six years, we were forced to 
stay all night at anchor on account of a dead calm, which is a 
rare thing indeed just about here ; and once we had to remain 
on the grounds nearly a week, starving to death, owing to a 
gale which blew up shortly after our arrival, and made the 
channel too boisterous to be thought of. Upon this occasion 
we should have been driven out to sea in spite of everything 
(for the whirlpools threw us round and round so violently, 
that, at length, we fouled our anchor and dragged it) if it had 
not been that we drifted into one of the innumerable cross 
currents — here to-day and gone to-morrow — which drove 
us under the lee of Flimen, where, by good luck, we brought 
up. 

"I could not tell you the twentieth part of the difficulties 
we encountered ' on the ground ' — it is a bad spot to be in, 
even in good weather — but we made shift always to run the 
gantlet of the Moskoe-strom itself without accident; al- 
though at times my heart has been in my mouth when we 
happened to be a minute or so behind or before the slack. 
The wind sometimes was not as strong as we thought it at 
starting, and then we made rather less way than we could 
wish, while the curren.t rendered the smack unmanageable. 
My eldest brother had a son eighteen years old, and I had 



128 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

two stout boys of my own. These would have been of great 
assistance at such times, in using the sweeps, as well as after- 
ward in fishing — but, somehow, although we ran the risk 
ourselves, we had not the heart to let the young ones get into 
the danger — for, after all said and done, it was a horrible 
danger, and that is the truth. 

"It is now within a few days of three years since what I am 
going to tell you occurred. It was on the tenth of July, i8 — , 
a day which the people of this part of the world will never 
forget — for it was one in which blew the most terrible hurri- 
cane that ever came out of the heavens. And yet all the 
morning, and indeed until late in the afternoon, there was a 
gentle and steady breeze from the southwest, while the sun 
shone brightly, so that the oldest seamen among us could not 
have foreseen what was to follow. 

" The three of us — my two brothers and myself — had 
crossed over to the islands about two o'clock p.m., and soon 
nearly loaded the smack with fine fish, which, we all remarked, 
were more plenty that day than we had ever known them. It 
was just seven, hy my watch, when we weighed and started for 
home, so as to make the worst of the Strom at slack water, 
which we knew would be at eight. 

"We set out with a fresh wind on our starboard quarter, 
and for some time spanked along at a great rate, never dream- 
ing of danger, for indeed we saw not the slightest reason to 
apprehend it. All at once we were taken aback by a breeze 
from over Helseggen. This was most unusual — something 
that had never happened to us before — and I began to feel a 
little uneasy, without exactly knowing why. We put the 
boat on the wind, but could make no headway at all for the 
eddies, and I was upon the point of proposing to return to 
the anchorage, when, looking astern, we saw the whole hori- 
zon covered with a singular copper-colored cloud that rose 
with the most amazing velocity. 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 129 

''In the meantime the breeze that had headed us off fell 
away, and we were dead becalmed, drifting about in every 
direction. This state of things, however, did not last long 
enough to give us time to think about it. In less than a 
minute the storm was upon us — in less than two the sky was 
entirely overcast — and what with this and the driving spray, 
it became suddenly so dark that we could not see each other 
in the smack. 

"Such a hurricane as then blew it is folly to attempt de- 
scribing. The oldest seaman in Norway never experienced 
anything like it. We had let our sails go by the run before it 
cleverly took us ; but, at the first puff, both our masts went 
by the board as if they had been sawed off — the mainmast 
taking with it my youngest brother, who had lashed himself 
to it for safety. 

"Our boat was the lightest feather of a thing that ever sat 
upon water. It had a complete flush ^ deck, with only a small 
hatch near the bow, and this hatch it had always been our 
custom to batten 2 down when about to cross the Strom, by 
way of precaution against the chopping seas. But for this 
circumstance we should have foundered at once — for we lay 
entirely buried for some moments. How my elder brother 
escaped destruction I^cannot say, for I never had an oppor- 
tunity of ascertaining. For my part, as soon as I had let the 
foresail run, I threw myself flat on deck, with my feet against 
the narrow gunwale of the bow, and with my hands grasping a 
ringbolt near the foot of the foremast. It was mere instinct 
that prompted me to do this — which was undoubtedly the 
very best thing I could have done — for I was too much 
flurried to think. 

"For some moments we were completely deluged, as I say, 
and all this time I held my breath, and clung to the bolt. 
When I could stand it no longer I raised myself upon my 

^ That is, a continuous deck from stem to stern. 2 Fasten. 

K. & B. READINGS — Q 



I30 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

knees, still keeping hold with my hands, and thus got my 
head clear. Presently our little boat gave herself a shake, 
just as a dog does in coming out of the water, and thus rid 
herself, in some measure, of the seas. I was now trying to get 
the better of the stupor that had come over me, and to collect 
my senses so as to see what was to be done, when I felt some- 
body grasp my arm. It was my elder brother, and my heart 
leaped for joy, for I had made sure that he was overboard — 
but the next moment all this joy was turned into horror — for 
he put his mouth close to my ear, and screamed out the word 
' Moskoe-strom ! ' 

"No one will ever know what my feelings were at that 
moment. I shook from head to foot as if I had had the most 
violent fit of the ague. I knew what he meant by that one 
word well enough — I knew what he wished to make me 
understand. With the wind that now drove us on, we were 
bound for the whirl of the Strom, and nothing could save us ! 

''You perceive that in crossing the Strom channel , we 
always went a long way up above the whirl, even in the 
calmest weather, and then had to wait and watch carefully for 
the slack — but now we were driving right upon the pool it- 
self, and in such a hurricane as this ! 'To be sure,' I thought, 
' we shall get there just about the slack — there is some little 
hope in that ' — but in the next moment I cursed myself for 
being so great a fool as to dream of hope at all. I knew very 
well that we were doomed, had we been ten times a ninety- 
gun ship. 

"By this time the first fury of the tempest had spent itself, 
or perhaps we did not feel it so much as we scudded before 
it ; but at all events the seas, which at first had been kept 
down by the wind, and lay flat and frothing, now got up into 
absolute mountains. A singular change, too, had come over 
the heavens. Around in every direction it was still as black 
as pitch, but nearly overhead there burst out, all at once, a 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 131 

circular rift of clear sky — as clear as I ever saw — and of a 
deep bright blue — and through it there blazed forth the 
full moon with a luster that I never before knew her to wear. 
She lit up everything about us with the greatest distinctness 

— but, oh God, what a scene it was to light up ! 

"I now made one or two attempts to speak to my brother 

— but, in some manner which I could not understand, the 
din had so increased that I could not make him hear a single 
word, although I screamed at the top of my voice, in his ear. 
Presently he shook his head, looking as pale as death, and 
held up one of his fingers, as if to say listen ! 

"At first I could not make out what he meant — but soon 
a hideous thought flashed upon me. I dragged my watch 
from its fob. It was not going. I glanced at its face by the 
moonlight, and then burst into tears as I flung it far away 
into the ocean. It had run down at seven o^clock I We were 
behind the time of the slack, and the whirl of the Strom was in full 
fury f 

"When a boat is well built, properly trimmed, and not 
deep laden, the waves in a strong gale, when she is going large, 
seem always to slip from beneath her — which appears very 
strange to a landsman — and this is what is called riding, in 
sea phrase. 

"Well, so far we had ridden the swells very cleverly; but 
presently a gigantic sea happened to take us right under the 
counter, and bore us with it as it rose — up — up — as if 
into the sky. I would not have believed that any wave 
could rise so high. And then down we came with a sweep, a 
slide, and a plunge, that made me feel sick and dizzy, as if 
I was falling from some lofty mountain top in a dream. But 
while we were up I had thrown a quick glance around — and 
that one glance was all sufficient. I saw our exact position 
in an instant. The Moskoe-strom whirlpool was about a 
quarter of a mile dead ahead — but no more hke the everyday 



132 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

Moskoe-strom, than the whirl as you now see it is like a mill 
race. If I had known where we were, and what we had to 
expect, I should not have recognized the place at all. As it 
was, I involuntarily closed my eyes in horror. The lids 
clenched themselves together as if in a spasm. 

''It could not have been more than two minutes afterwards 
until we suddenly felt the waves subside, and were enveloped 
in foam. The boat made a sharp half turn to larboard, and 
then shot off in its new direction like a thunder bolt. At the 
same moment the roaring noise of the water was completely 
drowned in a kind of shrill shriek — such a sound as you might 
imagine given out by the water pipes of many thousand steam 
vessels, letting off their steam all together. We were now in the 
belt of surf that always surrounds the whirl ; and I thought, 
of course, that another moment would plunge us into the abyss 
— down which we could only see indistinctly on account of the 
amazing velocity with which we were borne along. The boat 
did not seem to sink into the water at all, but to skim like an 
air bubble upon the surface of the surge. Her starboard side 
was next the whirl, and on the larboard arose the world of 
ocean we had left. It stood like a huge writhing wall between 
us and the horizon. 

"It may appear strange, but now, when we were in the 
very jaws of the gulf, I felt more composed than when we were 
only approaching it. Having made up my mind to hope no 
more, I got rid of a great deal of that terror which unmanned 
me at first. I suppose it was despair that strung my nerves. 

''It may look like boasting — but what I tell you is truth — 
I began to reflect how magnificent a thing it was to die in such 
a manner, and how foolish it was in me to think of so paltry a 
consideration as my own individual life, in view of so wonder- 
ful a manifestation of God's power. I do believe that I 
blushed with shame when this idea crossed my mind. After 
a little while I became possessed with the keenest curiosity 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 133 

about the whirl itself. I positively felt a wish to explore its 
depths, even at the sacrifice I was going to make ; and my 
principal grief was that I should never be able to tell my old 
companions on shore about the mysteries I should see. 
These, no doubt, were singular fancies to occupy a man's 
mind in such extremity — and I have often thought, since, 
that the revolutions of the boat around the pool might have 
rendered me a little light-headed. 

"There was another circumstance which tended to restore 
my self-possession ; and this was the cessation of the wind, 
which could not reach us in our present situation — for, as 
you saw yourself, the belt of surf is considerably lower than 
the general bed of the ocean, and this latter now towered 
above us, a high, black, mountainous ridge. If you have 
never been at sea in a heavy gale, you can form no idea of 
the confusion of mind occasioned by the wind and spray 
together. They blind, deafen, and strangle you, and take 
away all power of action or reflection. But we were now, in 
a great measure, rid of these annoyances — just as death- 
condemned felons in prison are allowed petty indulgences, 
forbidden them while their doom is yet uncertain. 

"How often we made the circuit of the belt it is impossible 
to say. We careered round and round for perhaps an hour, 
flying rather than floating, getting gradually more and more 
into the middle of the surge, and then nearer and nearer to its 
horrible inner edge. All this time I had never let go of the 
ringbolt. My brother was at the stern, holding on to a small 
empty water cask which had been securely lashed under the 
coop of the counter, and was the only thing on deck that had 
not been swept overboard when the gale first took us. As 
we approached the brink of the pit he let go his hold upon 
this, and made for the ring, from which, in the agony of his 
terror, he endeavored to force my hands, as it was not large 
enough to afford us both a secure grasp. I never felt deeper 



134 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

grief than when I saw him attempt this act — although I 
knew he was a madman when he did it — a raving maniac 
through sheer fright. I did not care, however, to contest 
the point with him. I knew it could make no difference 
whether either of us held on at all ; so I let him have the bolt, 
and went astern to the cask. This there was no great diffi- 
culty in doing ; for the smack flew round steadily enough, 
and upon an even keel — only swaying to and fro, with the 
immense sweeps and swelters of the whirl. Scarcely had I 
secured myself in my new position, when we gave a wild 
lurch to starboard, and rushed headlong into the abyss. I 
muttered a hurried prayer to God, and thought all was over. 

"As I felt the sickening sweep of the descent, I had in- 
stinctively tightened my hold upon the barrel, and closed 
my eyes. For some seconds I dared not open them — while 
I expected instant destruction, and wondered that I was not 
already in my death struggles with the water. But moment 
after moment elapsed. I still lived. The sense of falling 
had ceased ; and the motion of the vessel seemed much as it 
had been before, while in the belt of foam, with the exception 
that she now lay more along. I took courage and looked 
once again upon the scene. 

"Never shall I forget the sensations of awe, horror, and 
admiration with which I gazed about me. The boat ap- 
peared to be hanging, as if by magic, midway down, upon 
the interior surface of a funnel vast in circumference, pro- 
digious in depth, and whose perfectly smooth sides might 
have been mistaken for ebony, but for the bewildering rapidity 
with which they spun around, and for the gleaming and 
ghastly radiance they shot forth, as the rays of the full 
moon, from that circular rift amid the clouds, which I have 
already described, streamed in a flood of golden glory along 
the black walls, and far away down into the inmost recesses 
of the abyss. 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 135 

"At first I was too much confused to observe anything 
accurately. The general burst of terrific grandeur was all 
that I beheld. When I recovered myself a little, however, 
my gaze fell instinctively downward. In this direction I was 
able to obtain an unobstructed view, from the manner in 
which the smack hung on the inclined surface of the pool. 
She was quite upon an even keel — that is to say, her deck 
lay in a plane parallel with that of the water — but this 
latter sloped at an angle of more than forty-five degrees, so 
that we seemed to be lying upon our beam ends. I could 
not help observing, nevertheless, that I had scarcely more 
difficulty in maintaining my hold and footing in this situa- 
tion, than if we had been upon a dead level; and this, I 
suppose, was owing to the speed at which we revolved. 

"The rays of the moon seemed to search the very bottom 
of the profound gulf ; but still I could make out nothing dis- 
tinctly, on account of a thick mist in which everything there 
was enveloped, and over which there hung a magnificent 
rainbow, like that narrow and tottering bridge which Mussul- 
mans say is the only pathway between Time and Eternity. 
This mist, or spray, was no doubt occasioned by the clash- 
ing of the great w^alis of the funnel, as they all met together 
at the bottom — but the yell that went up to the heavens 
from out of that mist, I dare not attempt to describe. 

"Our first slide into the abyss itself, from the belt of foam 
above, had carried us to a great distance down the slope ; 
but our farther descent was by no means proportionate. 
Round and round we swept — not with any uniform move- 
ment but in dizzying swings and jerks, that sent us sometimes 
only a few hundred yards — sometimes nearly the complete 
circuit of the whirl. Our progress downward, at each revo- 
lution, was slow, but very perceptible. 

"Looking about me upon the wide waste of liquid ebony 
on which we were thu^ borne, I perceived that our boat was 



136 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

not the only object in the embrace of the whirl. Both above 
and below us were visible fragments of vessels, large masses 
of building timber and trunks of trees, with many smaller 
articles, such as pieces of house furniture, broken boxes, 
barrels, and staves. I have already described the unnatural 
curiosity which had taken the place of my original terrors. 
It appeared to grow upon me as I drew nearer and nearer to 
my dreadful doom. I now began to watch, with a strange 
interest, the numerous things that floated in our company. 
I must have been delirious — for I even sought amusement 
in speculating upon the relative velocities of their several 
descents toward the foam below. 'This fir tree,' I found 
myself at one time saying, 'will certainly be the next thing 
that takes the awful plunge and disappears,' — and then I 
was disappointed to find that the wreck of a Dutch mer- 
chant ship overtook it and went down before. At length, 
after making several guesses of this nature, and being de- 
ceived in all — this fact — the fact of my invariable mis- 
calculation, set me upon a train of reflection that made my 
limbs again tremble, and my heart beat heavily once more. 
"It was not a new terror that thus affected me, but the 
dawn of a more exciting hope. This hope arose partly from 
memory, and partly from present observation. I called to 
mind the great variety of buoyant matter that strewed the 
coast of Lofoden, having been absorbed and then thrown 
forth by the Moskoe-strom. By far the greater number of 
the articles were shattered in the most extraordinary way — 
so chafed and roughened as to have the appearance of being 
stuck full of splinters — but then I distinctly recollected that 
there were some of them which were not disfigured at all. 
Now I could not account for this difference except by sup- 
posing that the roughened fragments were the only ones 
which had been completely absorbed — that the others had 
entered the whirl at so late a period of the tide, or, from some 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 137 

reason, had descended so slowly after entering, that they did 
not reach the bottom before the turn of the flood came, or 
of the ebb, as the case might be. I conceived it possible, in 
either instance, that they might thus be whirled up again 
to the level of the ocean, without undergoing the fate of 
those which had been drawn in more early or absorbed more 
rapidly. I made, also, three important observations. The 
first was, that as a general rule, the larger the bodies were, 
the more rapid their descent; the second, that, between 
two masses of equal extent, the one spherical, and the other 
of any other shape, the superiority in speed of descent was 
with the sphere; the third, that, between two masses of 
equal size, the one cylindrical, and the other of any other 
shape, the cylinder was absorbed the more slowly. 

"There was one startling circumstance which went a great 
way in enforcing these observations, and rendering me 
anxious to turn them to account, and this was that, at every 
revolution, we passed something like a barrel, or else the 
yard or the mast of a vessel, while many of these things, 
which had been on our level when I first opened my eyes 
upon the wonders of the whirlpool, were now high up above 
us, and seemed to have moved but little from their original 
station. 

"I no longer hesitated what to do. I resolved to lash 
myself securely to the water cask upon which I now held, 
to cut it loose from the counter, and to throw myself with it 
into the water. I attracted my brother's attention by signs, 
pointed to the floating barrels that came near us, and did 
everything in my power to make him understand what I 
was about to do. I thought at length that he comprehended 
my design — but, whether this was the case or not, he 
shook his head despairingly, and refused to move from his 
station by the ringbolt. It was impossible to reach him; 
the emergency admitted of no delay ; and so, with a bitter 



138 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

struggle, I resigned him to his fate, fastened myself to the 
cask by means of the lashings which secured it to the counter, 
and precipitated myself with it into the sea, without another 
moment's hesitation. 

"The result was precisely what I had hoped it might be. 
As it is myself who now tell you this tale — as you see that 
I did escape — and as you are already in possession of the 
mode in which this escape was effected, and must therefore 
anticipate all that I have farther to say — I will bring my 
story quickly to conclusion. It might have been an hour, or 
thereabout, after my quitting the smack, when, having 
descended to a vast distance beneath me, it made three or 
four wild gyrations in rapid succession, and, bearing my loved 
brother with it, plunged headlong, at once and forever, into 
the chaos of foam below. The barrel to which I was attached 
sank very little farther than half the distance between the 
bottom of the gulf and the spot at which I leaped overboard, 
before a great change took place in the character of the whirl- 
pool. The slope of the sides of the vast funnel became 
momently less and less steep. The gyrations of the whirl 
grew, gradually, less and less violent. By degrees, the froth 
and the rainbow disappeared, and the bottom of the gulf 
seemed slowly to uprise. The sky was clear, the winds had 
gone down, and the full moon was setting radiantly in the 
west, when I found myself on the surface of the ocean, in 
full view of the shores of Lofoden, and above the spot where 
the pool of the Moskoe-strom had been. It was the hour of 
the slack, but the sea still heaved in mountainous waves 
from the effects of the hurricane. I was borne violently into 
the channel of the Strom, and in a few minutes was hurried 
down the coast into the 'grounds' of the fishermen. A boat 
picked me up — exhausted from fatigue — and (now that 
the danger was removed) speechless from the memory of its 
horror. Those who drew me on board were my old mates 



A DESCENT INTO THE MAELSTROM 139 

and daily companions, but they knew me no more than 
they would have known a traveler from the spirit land. My 
hair, which had been raven-black the day before, was as 
white as you see it now. They say too that the whole expres- 
sion of my countenance had changed. I told them my 
story — they did not believe it. I now tell it to you — and 
I can scarcely expect you to put more faith in it than did 
the merry fishermen of Lofoden." 

STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

summit route involuntarily 

precipice instinct hurricane 

ghastly innumerable velocity 

panorama precipitate disappear 

How does Poe prepare us for a tale of horror in the first paragraph ? 
What does his description of the *' little cliff " show us concerning the 
old fisherman ? Try to see the view from the crag as the speaker saw it. 
What change took place in the water as they gazed down upon it? 
Read this magnificent description carefully. Can you find instances of 
the old man's courage? How did he make his escape? How much 
time was consumed in this experience ? What one feehng is brought 
out in this story ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

While the dramatic method of portraying character is used to some 
extent in this story, the main purpose of the writer is to arouse in the 
reader one feeling, that of horror. Recall one moment of terror that 
you have experienced. Describe your feeling, bearing in mind your 
climax. When you have written this, look it over carefully and mark 
out any expression that would weaken the general impression you wish 
to create. Write after this revision a brief introduction in the form of 
a conversation to explain whatever is necessary to an understanding of 
the situation. In order to make others feel your experience, you must 
first "live it" again, then tell it while you are in the mood. Determine 



140 EDGAR ALLAN POE 

that you will make your best friend feel as you did under one of the 
situations suggested here. 

Keeping a Steady Head. A Wind Storm. 

Learning to Swim. He Could Not Swim ! 

An Experience with a Sail Boat. The Ice Broke. 

A Terrifying Experience. Fire ! 
A Ghost Story. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Masque of the Red Death (in Prose Tales). Edgar Allan Poe. 
The Pit and the Pendulum. Edgar Allan Poe. 
Hop Frog. Edgar Allan Poe. 
The Fall of the House of Usher. Edgar Allan Poe. 
Ethan Brand (in The Snow Image). Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
The Story of the Young Man with the Cream Tarts (in the New Arabian 
Nights). Robert Louis Stevenson. 

No Haid Pawn (In Ok Virginia). Thomas Nelson Page. 

The Lazy Tour of Two Idle Apprentices. Charles Dickens. 

King Solomon of Kentucky (in Flute and Violin) . James Lane Allen. 



A GROUP OF BIRD POEMS 

THE SKYLARK 

Percy Bysshe Shelley 

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-182 2) was born in England three years 
before John Keats. Shelley is one of the great English lyric poets. 
Although his verse is often ethereal, airy, intangible, he loves to identify 
himself with the animating spirit of nature, the spirit which he finds 
so manifest in the skylark, night, and the west wind. No one surpasses 
him in this field. He was drowned in the Bay of Spezzia, Italy, the year 
after Keats died, and buried in the Protestant Cemetery in Rome, not 
far from Keats. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 416-425, 446, 447. 

Dowden's Life of Shelley. 

Sharp's Life of Shelley. 

What objects are the fountains 

Of thy happy strain ? 
What fields, or waves, or mountains? 

What shapes of sky or plain ? 
What love of thine^own kind ? What ignorance of pain ? 

Waking or asleep, 

Thou of death must deem 
Things more true and deep 

Than we mortals dream. 
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? 

We look before and after. 

And pine for what is not : 
141 



142 A GROUP OF BIRD POEMS 

Our sincerest laughter 

With some pain is fraught ; 
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. 

Yet if we could scorn 

Hate, and pride, and fear ; 
If we were things born 
Not to shed a tear, 
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. 

Better than all measures 

Of delightful sound, 
Better than all treasures 

That in books are found, 
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground ! 

Teach me half the gladness 

That thy brain must know, 
Such harmonious madness 

From my lips would flow. 
The world should listen then, as I am listening now. 

THE FIRST MOCKING BIRD IN SPRING ^ 
Paul Hamilton Hayne 

Paul Hamilton Hayne (i 830-1 886) was born in Charleston, South 
Carolina. He was educated for the profession of law, but devoted all 
his spare time to writing. In the Civil War, he lost both fortune and 
health. He spent his last years in a rude hut in the woods of Georgia, 
where he wrote many of his best poems. His poetry is musical, and 
shows an intimate love of nature. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 311, 312, 337. 

Pickett's Literary Hearthstones of Dixie. 

Edward Mims in Library of Southern Literature. 

1 Used by special arrangement with Lothrop, Lee, and Shepard Company, publishers 
of Hayne 's Poetical Works, 



TAMPA ROBINS 143 

The wren and the field lark listen 

To the gush from their laureate's throat ; 

And the bluebird stops on the oak to catch 
Each rounded and perfect note. 

The sparrow, his pert head reared aloft, 

Has ceased to chirp in the grassy croft. 

And is bending the curves of his tiny ear 

In the pose of a critic wise, to hear. 

A blackbird, perched on a glistening gum, 

Seems lost in a rapture, deep and dumb ; 

And as eagerly still in his tranced hush, 

'Mid the copse beneath, is a clear-eyed thrush. 

No longer the dove b)^ the thorn-tree root 

Moans sad and soft as a far-off flute. 

All Nature is hearkening, charmed and mute. 

TAMPA ROBINS 1 

Sidney Lanier 

Sidney Lanier (1842-1881) was born of an old, cultured family in 
Macon, Georgia. He served four years in the Confederate army, was 
imprisoned, and suffered many hardships. After six years of struggle 
with ill health and hard study, he was appointed lecturer on English 
literature at Johns Hopkins University. He died two years later. 
In some of his poetry he has never been surpassed by any American 
poet. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 313-317, 338. 

Edward Mims's Sidney Lanier. 

Burt's The Lanier Book. 

Ward's Memorial of Sidney Lanier, in Poems by Sidney Lanier, edited 
by his wife. 

The robin laughed in the orange tree : 
"Ho, windy North, a fig for thee : 

1 From Poems by Sidney Lanier, copyright, 1884, 1891, by Charles Scribner's Sons. 
Used by special arrangement with the publishers. 



144 A GROUP OF BIRD POEMS 

While breasts are red and wings are bold 
And green trees wave us globes of gold, 
Time's scythe shall reap but bliss for me 
— Sunlight, song, and the orange tree. 

" Burn, golden globes in leafy sky. 
My orange planets : crimson I 
Will shine and shoot among the spheres 
(Blithe meteor that no mortal fears) 
And thrid the heavenly orange tree 
With orbits bright of minstrelsy. 

" If that I hate wild winter's spite — 
The gibbet trees, the world in white. 
The sky but gray wind over a grave — 
Why should I ache, the season's slave? 

I'll sing from the top of the orange tree 

Gramercy, winter's tyranny. 

" I'll south with the sun, and keep my clime ; 

My wing is king of the summer time ; 

My breast to the sun his torch shall hold ; 

And I'll call down through the green and gold 
Time, take thy scythe, reap bliss for me, 
Bestir thee under the orange tree.'' 



THE WHIPPOORWILL 1 
Madison J. Cawein 

Madison J. Cawein (1865-19 14), the poet, was born in Louisville, 
Kentucky. From early boyhood he wrote verse. Even his graduation 
speech at the high school was a poem, which awakened much interest. 
Probably no American poet of his day received more European recog- 

^ Copyright, 1910. Used by special arrangement with the author and The Macmillan 
Company. 



THE WHIPPOORWILL 145 

nition. He published several volumes of poems, all of which show rare 
imaginative power and an exquisite appreciation of nature. See also : 

Halleck's History of America^i Literature, pp. 332-334, 338. 

Trent's Southern Writers,^^. 332-378. 

Townsend's Kentucky in American Letters, Vol. 11, pp. 187-198. 

Review of Reviews, Recent Verse, Vol. 47, pp. 370-373 (March, 1913). 

Above lone woodland ways that led 
To dells the stealthy twilights tread 
The west was hot geranium red ; 

And still, and still, 
Along old lanes the locusts sow 
With clustered pearls the Maytimes know, 
Deep in the crimson afterglow, 
We heard the homeward cattle low, 
And then the far-off, far-off woe 

Of " whippoorwill !" of "whippoorwill !" 

Beneath the idle beechen boughs 
We heard the far bells of the cows 
Come slowly jangling toward the house ; 

And still, and still. 
Beyond the Hght that would not die 
Out of the scarlet-haunted sky ; 
Beyond the"ievening-star's white eye 
Of glittering chalcedony. 
Drained out of dusk the plaintive cry 

Of "whippoorwill," of "whippoorwill." 

And in the city oft, when swims 

The pale moon o'er the smoke that dims 

Its disk, I dream of wildwood limbs ; 

And still, and still, 
I seem to hear, where shadows grope 
'Mid ferns and flowers that dewdrops rope, — • 

H. & B. READINGS — lO 



146 A GROUP OF BIRD POEMS 

Lost in faint deeps of heliotrope 
Above the clover-sweetened slope, — 
Retreat, despairing, past all hope, 
The whippoorwill, the whippoorwilL 

THE FIRST BLUEBIRD! 

James Whitcomb Riley 

James Whitcomb Riley (1853-V^ ) was born in the little town of 
Greenfield, Indiana, The Raggedy Man, and Little Orphant Annie, 
which are among his most familiar poems, illustrate his perfect sym- 
pathy with children, and explain their love for him. His poems on 
nature and rural life, such as When the Frost is on the Punkin and The 
First Bluebird, are great favorites. It has been truly said that "he 
lives in the understanding and affection of the millions." See also : 

HaUeck's History of American Literature, pp. 352-354, 366. 

Bookman, 35 : 637-645 ; 38 : 163-168. 

McCoy's The Boy who was Born in our Town in The World's Work, 

25 : 565-567- 

Good Housekeeping, 55 : 456-460; Literary Digest, 47 : 782. 

Jest rain and snow ! and rain again ! 

And dribble ! drip ! and blow ! 
Then snow ! and thaw ! and slush ! and then — 

Some more rain and snow ! 

This morning I was 'most afeard 

To wake up — when, I jing ! 
I seen the sun shine out and heerd 

The first bluebird of Spring ! — 
Mother she'd raised the winder some ; — 

And in acrost the orchurd come, 

Soft as a angel's wing, 
A breezy, treesy, beesy hum. 

Too sweet fer anything ! 

1 From Neighborly Poems, by James Whitcomb Riley, copyright, 1891. Used by 
special permission of the publishers. The Bobbs-Merrill Company. 



THE FIRST BLUEBIRD 147 

The winter's shroud was rent a-part — 

The sun bust forth in glee, — 
And when that bluebird sung, my hart 

Hopped out o' bed with me ! 

STUDY HINTS 

There are twenty-one stanzas in Shelley's The Skylark. Would you 
not like to read the other fifteen? What does the poet think may be 
the cause of the skylark's song? Why does he think the bird must 
know the true and deep realities of death ? Does the third stanza express 
almost universal truths of human nature? How does Shelley compare 
his own skill with that of the skylark ? Is the world now listening to him ? 

In Hayne's poem why is the mocking bird called the "laureate"? 
Name the birds that have stopped to listen. What is the different 
position of each? Does it require careful observation to write verse 
like this? Visualize in distinct images the eight birds mentioned and 
describe the appearance of each. Does the poet convey to you the 
beauty of the mocking bird's song by direct description? What method 
does he employ? 

How is the character of the robin shown in Lanier's poem ? In what 
does the robin find bliss? How many examples of personification are 
there in this poem? Think carefully over the second line of the last 
stanza. Reread the poem aloud and see how spirited you can make it. 
Statistical investigation of children's geographical knowledge shows that 
they usually agree in considering the same two states the most interesting. 
Which states do you think these are? Why? Compare the back- 
ground of Tampa Robins with that of The First Bluebird. 

In Cawein's The Whippoorwill, explain why the word "stealthy" is 
very happily used in this connection. Would any one but a natural 
poet have thought of such expressions as "stealthy twilights," "hot 
geranium red," "scarlet-haunted sky"? What is the time of year of 
this poem ? The time of day ? If you were an artist, could you embody 
the first stanza in a picture ? How does the second stanza tell you that 
there is no air stirring? Why is "drained out of dusk" very appropriate 
for such a "plaintive cry"? Mention the chief natural objects that 
lend fascination to this poem. Would you be more apt to discover this 
fascination in nature after reading this poem aloud several times? 



148 A GROUP OF BIRD POEMS 

Note that Riley's The First Bluebird is written in the dialect of the 
Indiana farmer. Have you ever known a March day, such as the first 
four lines realistically describe? How does the poet make you feel the 
fascination of the bluebird's song? In what way does he make the 
song more effective by its background? 

The first is an English bird ; the others may be heard in many parts 
of our own country. Can you name the birds in your own locality? 
How many bird notes can you whistle ? 

Of the five poems in this group, which gives you the most pleasure? 
Which do you think is the greatest? Read them all to some of your 
friends and learn their opinions. Perhaps some very good-natured friend 
or company may allow you at some special time to read aloud all of this 
and the preceding groups, and they may express their preferences. Of 
the fifteen poems in the three groups in this volume note that all but 
two are complete and that you are to read all of these two if you like 
them. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Skylark. James Hogg. 

The Redbreast. William Wordsworth. 

The Green Lhmet. William Wordsworth. 

The Rain-Crow. Madison Cawein. 

The Owlet. Madison Cawein. 

In the Shadow of the Beeches. Madison Cawein. 

There are Fairies. Madison Cawein. 

The Shadow Garden. Madison Cawein. 

One Day and Another. Madison Cawein. 

A Twilight Moth. Madison Cawein. 

To a Wind Flower. Madison Cawein. 

In Solitary Places. Madison Cawein, 

The Spirit of the Forest Spring. Madison Cawein. 

A Sudden Shower. James Whitcomb Riley. 

A Song. James Whitcomb Riley. 

A Life Lesson. James Whitcomb Riley. 

The Old Swimmin'' Hole. James Whitcomb Riley. 

The Boy Lives on Our Farm. James Whitcomb Riley. 

Our Hired Girl. James Whitcomb Riley. 

The Old Man and Jim. James Whitcomb Riley. 

The Name of Old Glory. James Whitcomb Riley. 

Our New Neighbors at Ponkapog. Thomas Bailey Aldrich. 



CAPTAIN PHIPS'S SEARCH FOR SUNKEN 
TREASURE ^ 

Cotton Mather 

Cotton Mather (1663-17 28) was born of Puritan ancestry in New 
England. He was graduated from Harvard in his sixteenth year. Like 
his father he was a minister and a writer, pubhshing in all three hundred 
and eighty-two works. He was prominent in the persecution of Salem 
witches. Benjamin Franklin said of his Essays To Do Good, "If I have 
been a useful citizen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book." 
His greatest work is his Magnolia, which he defines as an " Ecclesiastical 
History of New England." See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 46-50, 63. 

Wendell's Cotton Mather, the Puritan Priest. 



[Captain William Phips (1651-1695) was born in what is now Bristol, 
Maine, and died in London. At eighteen years of age he learned to read 
and write. In 1692 he organized a commission of magistrates to try 
so-called witches justly and protect them as much as possible. He was 
governor of Massachusetts, and was knighted by the king of England 
for his honesty and success in finding treasure. No doubt Cotton 
Mather heard this account from Captain Phips himself, who was a 
member of Cotton Mather's church.] 



He was of an inclination cutting rather like a hatchet 
than like a razor ; he would propose very considerable matters 
to himself, and then so cut through them that no difficulties 
could put by the edge of his resolutions. Being thus of the 
true temper for doing of great things, he betakes himself to 
the sea, the right scene for such things ; and upon advice of 

I Ftom Magnalia, z7 02. 
149 



150 COTTON MATHER 

a Spanish wreck about the Bahamas, he took a voyage 
thither ; but with little more success than what just served 
him a little to furnish him for a voyage to England ; whither 
he went in a vessel, not much unlike that which the Dutch- 
men stamped on their first coin, with these words about it : 
Incertum quo Fata ferant} Having first informed himself 
that there was another Spanish wreck, wherein was lost a 
mighty treasure, hitherto undiscovered, he had a strong im- 
pression upon his mind that he must be the discoverer ; and 
he made such representations of his design at Whitehall, 
that by the year 1683 he became the captain of a king's 
ship, and arrived at New England commander of the Algier- 
Rose, a frigate of eighteen guns and ninety-five men. 

To relate all the dangers through which he passed, both 
by sea and land, and all the tiresome trials of his patience, 
as well as of his courage, while year after year the most vexing 
accidents imaginable delayed the success of his design, it 
would even tire the patience of the reader; for very great 
was the experiment that Captain Phips made of the Italian 
observation, "He that cannot suffer both good and evil, 
will never come to any great preferment." Wherefore I 
shall supersede all journal of his voyages to and fro, with 
reciting one incident of his conduct, that showed him to be 
a person of no contemptible capacity. While he was cap- 
tain of the Algier-Rose, his men growing weary of their un- 
successful enterprise, made a mutiny, wherein they ap- 
proached him on the quarter-deck, with drawn swords in 
their hands, and required him to join with them in running 
away with the ship, to drive a trade of piracy on the South 
Seas. Captain Phips, though he had not so much of a 
weapon as an ox-goad, or a jawbone in his hands, yet, like 
another Shamgar ^ or Samson, with a most undaunted forti- 

^ " (It is) uncertain whither the Fates may bear (us)." 

2 An Old Testament hero who slew six hundred Philistines with an ox-goad. 



CAPTAIN PHIPS'S SEARCH FOR TREASURE 151 

tude, he rushed in upon them, and with the blows of his bare 
hands felled many of them, and quelled all the rest. 

But this is not the instance which I intended ; that which 
I intend is, that (as it has been related unto me) one day 
while his frigate lay careening at a desolate Spanish island, 
by the side of a rock, from whence they had laid a bridge to 
the shore, the men, whereof he had about an hundred, went 
all but about eight or ten to divert themselves, as they pre- 
tended, in the woods ; where they all entered into an agree- 
ment, which they signed in a ring, that about seven o'clock 
that evening they would seize the captain, and those eight 
or ten which they knew to be true unto him, and leave them 
to perish on this island, and so be gone away unto the South 
Sea to seek their fortune. Will the reader now imagine that 
Captain Phips, having advice of this plot but about an hour 
and a half before it was to be put into execution, yet within 
two hours brought all these rogues down upon their knees to 
beg for their lives ? But so it was ! For these knaves con- 
sidering that they should want a carpenter with them in 
their villainous expedition, sent a messenger to fetch unto 
them the carpenter, who was then at work upon the vessel ; 
and unto him they shewed ^ their articles ; telling him what 
he must look for if he did not subscribe among them. The 
carpenter, being an honest fellow, did with much importunity 
prevail for ^ one half hour's time to consider of the matter ; 
and returning to work upon the vessel, with a spy by them 
set upon him, he feigned himself taken with a fit of the cholick, 
for the relief whereof he suddenly ran unto the captain in 
the great cabin for a dram ; where, when he came, his busi- 
ness was only, in brief, to tell the captain of the horrible 
distress which he was fallen into ; but the captain bid him 
as briefly return to the rogues in the woods, and sign their 

^ Note the old-fashioned spelling. Can you find any other illustrations? 
^ I.e. obtain. ^ 



152 



COTTON MATHER 



articles, and leave him to provide for the rest. The carpenter 
was no sooner gone but Captain Phips, calling together the 
few friends (it may be seven or eight) that were left him 
aboard, whereof the gunner was one, demanded of them, 
whether they would stand by him in the extremity which 
he informed them was now come upon him; whereto they 
replied, "They would stand by him, if he could save them" ; 
and he answered, *'By the help of God he did not fear it." 

All their provisions 
had been carried 
:, ashore to a tent, 
■^ made for that pur- 
pose there ; about 
which they had 
placed several great 
guns to defend it, in 
case of any assault 
from Spaniards, that 
might happen to 
come that way. 
Wherefore Captain 
Phips immediately 
ordered those guns 
to be silently drawn 
and turned; and so 
pulling up the bridge, he charged his great guns aboard, 
and brought them to bear on every side of the tent. By 
this time the army of rebels comes out of the woods; but 
as they drew near to the tent of provisions, they saw such 
a change of circumstances, that they cried out, ''We are 
betrayed!" And they were soon confirmed in it, when 
they heard the captain with a stern fury call to them, 
"Stand off, ye wretches, at your peril!" He quickly saw 
them cast into a more than ordinary confusion, when they 




CAPTAIN PHIPS'S SEARCH FOR TREASURE 153 

saw him ready to fire his great guns upon them, if they 
offered one step further than he permitted them ; and when 
he had signified unto them his resolve to abandon them 
unto all the desolation which they had purposed for him, he 
caused the bridge to be again laid, and his men began to 
take the provisions aboard. When the wretches beheld 
what was coming upon them, they fell to very humble en- 
treaties ; and at last fell down upon their knees, protesting, 
^That they never had anything against him, except only 
his unwillingness to go away with the king's ship upon the 
South-Sea design; but upon all other accounts they would 
chuse rather to live and die with him than with any man 
in the world. However, since they saw how much he was 
dissatisfied at it, they would insist upon it no more, and 
humbly begged his pardon.' And when he had judged that 
he had kept them on their knees long enough, he having first 
secured their arms, received them aboard; but he imme- 
diately weighed anchor, and arriving at Jamaica, he turned 
them off. 

Now with a small company of other men, he sailed from 
thence to Hispaniola,^ where, by the policy of his address, 
he fished out of a very old Spaniard (or Portuguese) a little 
advice about the true spot where lay the wreck which he 
had been hitherto seeking, as unprosperously as the chymists 
have their aurisick^ stone ; that it was upon a reef of shoals, 
a few leagues to the northward of Port de la Plata, upon 
Hispaniola, a port so called, it seems, from the landing of 
some of the shipwrecked company, with a boat full of plate, 
saved out of their sinking frigate. ... 

Captain Phips arriving with a ship and a tender at Port 
de la Plata, made a stout canoe of a stately cotton tree, so 
large as to carry eight or ten oars, for the making of which 

1 Now Haiti in the West Indies near Cuba. 
2 A fabul<Jus stone turning everything to gold. 



154 COTTON MATHER 

periaga (as they call it) he did, with the same industry that 
he did everything else, employ his own hand and adze, and 
endure no little hardship, lying abroad in the woods many 
nights together. This periaga, with the tender, being 
anchored at a place convenient, kept busking to and again, 
but could only discover a reef of rising shoals thereabouts 
called ''The Boilers," — which, rising to be within two or 
three foot of the surface of the sea, were yet so steep, that a 
ship striking on them would immediately sink down, who 
could say how many fathom, into the ocean? Here they 
could get no other pay for their long peeping among the 
boilers, but only such as caused them to think upon return- 
ing to their captain with the bad news of their total disap- 
pointment. Nevertheless, as they were upon the return, 
one of the men, looking over the side of the periaga, into the 
calm water, spied a sea feather, grooving, as he judged, out of 
a rock; whereupon they bade one of their Indians to dive, 
and fetch this feather, that they might, however, carry home 
something with them, and make, at least, as fair a triumph 
as Caligula's.^ The diver bringing up the feather, brought 
therewithal a surprising story, that he perceived a number of 
great guns in the watery world where he had found his feather ; 
the report of which great guns exceedingly astonished the 
whole company; and at once turned their despondencies for 
their ill success into assurances that they had now lit upon 
the true spot of ground which they had been looking for; 
and they were further confirmed in these assurances, when, 
upon further diving, the Indian fetched up a sow, as they 
styled it, or a lump of silver worth perhaps two or three 
hundred pounds. Upon this they prudently buoyed the 
place, that they might readily find it again ; and they went 

1 A Roman Emperor in the first century. Returning to Rome after a useless campaign, 
he was granted a triumph by the senate, but too late for a grand entrance* into Rome. 
He therefore entered Rome with no other celebration than that of distributing money to 
the populace. 



CAPTAIN PHIPS'S SEARCH FOR TREASURE 155 

back unto their captain, whom for some while they distressed 
with nothing but such bad news as they formerly thought 
they must have carried him. Nevertheless, they so slipped 
in the sow of silver on one side under the table, where they 
were now sitting with the captain, and hearing him express 
his resolutions to wait still patiently upon the providence of 
God under these disappointments, that when he should look 
on one side, he might see that odd thing before him. At 
last he saw; seeing it, he cried out with some agony, "Why ! 
what is this? whence comes this ? " And then, with changed 
countenances, they told him how and where they got it. 
"Then," said he, "thanks be to God! we are made"; and 
so away they went, all hands to work; wherein they had 
this one further piece of remarkable prosperity, that whereas 
if they had first fallen upon that part of the Spanish wreck 
where the pieces of eight had been stowed in bags among 
the ballast, they had seen a more laborious, and less enrich- 
ing time of it; now, most happily, they first fell upon that 
room in the wreck where the bullion had been stored up; 
and they so prospered In this new fishery, that in a little while 
they had, without the loss of any man's life, brought up 
thirty-two tons of silver ; for it was now come to measuring 
of silver by tons. Besides which, one Adderly, of Province, 
who had formerly been very helpful to Captain Phips in the 
search of this wreck, did, upon former agreement, meet him 
now with a little vessel here; and he, with his few hands, 
took up about six tons of silver; whereof, nevertheless, he 
made so little use, that in a year or two he died at Bermudas, 
and, as I have heard, he ran distracted some while before 
he died. 

Thus did there once again come into the light of the sun 
a treasure which had been half an hundred years groaning 
under the waters; and in this time there was grown upon 
the plate a crust like limestone, to the thickness of several 



156 COTTON MATHER 

inches ; which crust being broken open by iron contrived for 
that purpose, they knocked out whole bushels of rusty 
pieces of eight which were grown thereinto. Besides that in- 
credible treasure of plate in various forms, thus fetched up, 
from seven or eight fathom under water, there were vast 
riches of gold, and pearls, and jewels, which they also lit 
upon; and, indeed, for a more comprehensive invoice, I 
must but summarily say, "All that a Spanish frigate uses 
to be enriched withal." Thus did they continue fishing till, 
their provisions failing them, 'twas time to be gone. 

Captain Phips now coming up to London in the year 1687, 
with near three hundred thousand pounds sterling ^ aboard 
him, did acquit himself with such an exemplary honesty, 
that partly by his fulfilling his assurances to the seamen, 
and partly by his exact and punctual care to have his em- 
ployers defrauded of nothing that might conscientiously 
belong unto them, he had less than sixteen thousand pounds 
left unto himself ; as an acknowledgment of which honesty 
in him, the Duke of Albemarle made unto his wife, whom he 
never saw, a present of a golden cup, near a thousand pound 
in value. . . . The king, in consideration of the service 
done by him in bringing such a treasure into the nation, 
conferred upon him the honor of knighthood; and if we 
now reckon him a knight of the golden fleece,^ the style 
might pretend unto some circumstances that would justify it. 



STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words 



imaginable 


villain 


feign 


supersede 


expedition 


triumph 


contemptible 


dissatisfied 


buoyed 


enterprise 


ordinary 


anchor 


1 Almost $1,500,000. 


2 What Greek hero went in search of the GoL 



CAPTAIN PHIPS'S SEARCH FOR TREASURE 157 

What qualities has Captain Phips to a very high degree? How do 
you know? What quality do you find in the second incident that 
always makes for success? Does Captain Phips seem a real or a "story- 
book" hero? Why? Which is more interesting to you, the character 
of the hero, or the plot of the story? Or is the one made interesting 
because of the other? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

What methods of portraying character are employed by the author? 
(See suggestions on Wee Willie Winkie, p. 89.) Write a story on "The 
Hunt for Buried Treasure" in which the plot is the important feature. 
Write a story on the same topic in which the character of the leader is 
delineated by means of the plot. Describe to a friend the character of 
Captain Phips. Can you compare him with some one both of you 
know ? 
The Story (as told by one of the con- Raising the Maine. 

spirators). An Unexpected Discovery. 

The Story (as told by the carpenter). Pirate Tales that I Like. 
What the Diver Found. An Incident from Jules Verne's 

Learning to Dive. Twenty Thousand Leagues under 

the Sea. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Goldhug. Edgar Allan Poe. 

Treasure Island. Robert Louis Stevenson. 

To Have and to Hold. Mary Johnston. 

Stolen Treasure. Howard Pyle. 

The Pirate. Sir Walter Scott. 

Buccaneers and Pirates of our Coast. Frank R. Stockton. 

Ocean Life in the Old S ailing-Ship Days. J. D. Whidden. 

Two Years Before the Mast. R. H. Dana, Jr. 



SPEECH ON A RESOLUTION TO PUT VIRGINIA 
INTO A STATE OF DEFENSE 

Patrick Henry 

The British government had taxed the colonies without representation 
besides heaping many other indignities upon them. The whole country- 
was finally aroused to a state of the highest excitement. The Virginia 
convention assembled on March 28, 1775, to decide whether Virginia 
should be put into a state of defense. When a resolution to do this was 
offered, Patrick Henry (i 736-1 799), a young Virginia lawyer, one of a 
group of eloquent orators of that time, arose and delivered this famous 
speech. After reading it, you will understand how he created the wildest 
enthusiasm on this occasion. In old St. John's Church in Richmond, 
Virginia, a brass tablet marks the spot where he stood when delivering 
this speech. See also : 

Morgan's The True Patrick Henry. 

Wirt's Life of Patrick Henry. 

Mr. President, it is natural for man to indulge in the 
illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a 
painful truth, and to listen to the song of that siren ^ till 
she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men 
engaged in the great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are 
we disposed to be of the number of those who having eyes see 
not, and having ears hear not, the things which so nearly 
concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever 
anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole 
truth ; to know the worst, and to provide for it. 

I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided and 
that is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging 

1 Circe, the enchantress who turned Ulysses' men into swine and other loathsome 
beasts. 

158 



SPEECH, MARCH 28, 1775 



159 



St. John's Church 



of the future but by 
the past. And, judg- 
ing by the past, I wish 
to know what there 
has been in the con- 
duct of the British 
Ministry for the last 
ten years to justify 
those hopes with 
which gentlemen have 
been pleased to solace 
themselves and the 
House. Is it that in- 
sidious smile with 
which our petition has 
been lately received? 
Trust it not, sir; it 
will prove a snare to 
your feet. Suffer not yourselves to be betrayed with a kiss. 
Ask yourselves how this gracious reception of our petition 
comports with those warlike preparations which cover our 
waters and darken our land. Are fleets and armies neces- 
sary to a work of love and reconciliation ? Have we shown 
ourselves so unwilling to be reconciled that force must be 
called in to win back our love? 

Let us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the imple- 
ments of war and subjugation, the last argument to which 
kings resort. I ask, sir, what means this martial array, if 
its purposes be not to force us to submission? Can gentle- 
men assign any other possible motive for it? Has Great 
Britain any enemy in this quarter of the world to call for 
all this accumulation of navies and armies? No, sir, she 
has none. They are meant for us. They can be meant for 
no other. They are sent over to bind and rivet upon us 




i6o PATRICK HENRY 

those chains which the British Ministry have been so long 
forging. 

And what have we to oppose them? Shall we try argu- 
ment? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten years. 
Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Nothing. 
We have held the subject up in every light of which it is 
capable; but it has been ail in vain. Shall we resort to 
entreaty and supplication? What terms shall we find that 
have not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech 
you, sir, deceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done every- 
thing that could have been done to avert the storm that 
is now coming on. We have petitioned, we have remon- 
strated, we have supplicated, we have prostrated ourselves 
before the throne, and have implored its interposition to 
arrest the tyrannical hands of the Ministry and Parliament. 

Our petitions have been slighted, our remonstrances have 
produced additional violence and insult, our supplications 
have been disregarded, and we have been spurned with con- 
tempt from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things, 
may we indulge the fond hope of peace and reconciliation. 
There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free, 
if we mean to preserve inviolate these inestimable privileges 
for which we have been so long contending, if we mean not 
basely to abandon the ipble struggle in which we have been 
so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never 
to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be 
obtained, we must fight ! I repeat, sir, we must fight ! An 
appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us. 

They tell us, sir, that we are weak; unable to cope with 
so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger ? 
Will it be the next week, or the next year ? Will it be when 
we are totally disarmed, and when a British guard shall be 
stationed in every house ? Shall we gather strength by irreso- 
lution and inaction ? Shall we acquire the means of effectual 



SPEECH, MARCH 28, 1775 161 

resistance by lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the 
delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies shall have bound 
us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak if we make a proper 
use of those means which the God of Nature hath placed in 
our power. 

Three millions of people armed in the holy cause of liberty, 
and in such a country as that which we possess, are invin- 
cible by any force which our enemy can send against us. 
Besides, sir, we shall not fight our battles alone. There is a 
just God who presides over the destinies of nations, and who 
will raise up friends to fight our battles for us. The battle, 
sir, is not to the strong alone ; it is to the vigilant, the active, 
the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election.^ If we were 
base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from the 
contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery ! 
Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard on the 
plains of Boston ! The war is inevitable, and let it come ! 
I repeat, sir, let it come ! 

It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may 
cry, Peace, peace ! but there is no peace. The war is actually 
begun! The next gale that sweeps from the North will 
bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! Our brethren 
are already in the field! Why stand we here idle? What 
is it that gentlemehrwish? What would they have? Is life 
so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of 
chains and slavery? Forbid it. Almighty God ! I know not 
what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty or 
give me death! 

STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

insidious rivet irresolution 

revere entreaty vigilant 



reconciliation 


contempt 


extenuate 


martial 


exhausted 
1 Choice. 


inevitable 


H. & B. READINGS - 


-II 





i62 PATRICK HENRY 

What is the question before the House? What does the speaker say 
of the condition of affairs in the colonies? What figure is the "lamp 
of experience"? How had the colonies acted towards the mother coun- 
try for ten years? Where does Patrick Henry state his opponents' 
arguments? Notice his reasons for expecting success in the contest. 
What part of the speech do you think would be most inspiring to his 
hearers? When was the Declaration of Independence proclaimed? 
Have any sentences in that as much vigor as some in this speech ? 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Tell what interested you most in a public speech you have heard. 
Write a short speech nominating for class president a classmate. Think 
carefully over all the qualities your friend has which will make him a 
good leader. Arrange the points so that the best will come last. If 
you know of any qualities that others may object to, try to think of 
something that will counterbalance them. Make a spirited speech, full 
of enthusiasm, so that you will persuade others to agree with you. 
If you want to go somewhere on "school night," think what arguments 
you can use to persuade your mother to let you go. Perhaps you have 
prepared your lessons, or you have a first-hour study period. Arrange 
your points in the order of the weight you think they will have with 
your mother, or with your father. Write a speech opposing the nomi- 
nation of some one who in spite of his good qualities lacks one that makes 
for success in that particular position. Write a defense of some one — 
without mentioning the name — that you dislike. You have not pre- 
pared your lesson ; state your reasons clearly and forcibly, using Patrick 
Henry's method of repetition, and of reserving his best points for the 
last. You want a camera, or a new golf stick, or a new hat which your 
parents think unnecessary ; state your arguments in the most effective 
order. 

State, in a way to conciliate, if possible, your opponents, your reasons 
for preferring a certain style of school pin, or school motto. 

Debate: The Editor of a School Paper Must Have High Class 
Standing. 

The United States Should Have a Standing Army. 

Girls and Boys Should Have Equal Allowances. 

A Good Speaker Wields as Much Power as a Writer. 



SPEECH, MARCH 28, 1775 163 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Virginians. William Makepeace Thackeray. 

Hero Tales from American History. Roosevelt and Lodge. 

George Washington. Woodrow Wilson. 

The Youth of Washington. S. Weir Mitchell. 

The Gettysburg Address. Abraham Lincoln. 

The First Bunker Hill Oration. Daniel Webster. 

The New South. Henry Grady. 

The Boys of '76. Charles Coffin. 

Daughters of the Revolution. Charles Coffin. 



THE SKELETON IN ARMORS 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-188 2) was bom in Portland, 
Maine. He is the most popular poet of America, and he is the only 
American poet whose bust has been placed in the famous Poets' Corner 
of Westminster Abbey. He was a classmate and intimate friend of 
Nathaniel Hawthorne. Longfellow's poems are noteworthy because 
they preserve certain phases of American life not given by any one 
else. Examples of this are Evangeline, which deals with an incident of 
the French and Indian War ; Paul Revere' s Ride, and The Courtship of 
Miles Standish, which portray colonial life ; and The Song of Hiawatha, 
which has preserved many Indian myths. He will probably be 
remembered longest for The Song of Hiawatha, though many of his lyrics 
are familiar to every child in America. The Skeleton in Armor refers to 
the early visits of the Norsemen to America. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 222-233, 283, 284. 

Samuel Longfellow's Life of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

Higginson's Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

Robertson's Life of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

Carpenter's Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 



[The period of this poem is the same as that of Hereward the Wake, 
i.e. eleventh century. Two facts suggested this ballad to the poet: 
the mystery as to the origin of the old Round Tower at Newport, and 
the unearthing of a skeleton near Fall River, clad in broken and cor- 
roded armor.] 



" Speak ! speak ! thou fearful guest ! 
Who, with thy hollow breast 

1 This poem from Longfellow is used by permission of, and by arrangement with, 
Houghton Mifflin Company, authorized publishers of his works. 

164 



THE SKELETON IN ARMOR 165 

Still in rude armor drest, 

Comest to daunt me ! 
Wrapt not in Eastern balms/ 
But with thy fleshless palms 
Stretched, as if asking alms, 

Why dost thou haunt me?" 

Then, from those cavernous eyes 
Pale flashes seemed to rise, 
As when the Northern skies 

Gleam in December ; 
And, like the water's flow 
Under December's snow, 
Came a dull voice of woe 

From the heart's chamber. 

"I was a Viking ^ old ! 

My deeds, though manifold, 

No skald ^ in song has told, 

No saga* taught thee ! 
Take heed, that in thy verse 
Thou dost the tale rehearse. 
Else dread a dead man's curse ; 

For this I sought thee. 

*'Far in the Northern land. 
By the wild Baltic's strand, 
I, with my childish hand. 

Tamed the gerfalcon ; ^ 
And, with my skates fast-bound. 
Skimmed the half-frozen sound. 
That the poor whimpering hound, 

Trembled to walk on. 

1 That is, not after the fashion of an Egyptian mummy. 2 A Scandinavian pirate. 

3 A Scandinavian poet who celebrated the deeds of heroes, accompanying himself on 
the harp. 

4 A Scandinavian legend. y ^ A particularly fierce species of falcon. 



i66 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 

''Oft to his frozen lair 
Tracked I the grizzly bear, 
While from my path the hare 

Fled like a shadow ; 
Oft through the forest dark 
Followed the werewolf's ^ bark, 
Until the soaring lark 

Sang from the meadow. 

"But when I older grew, 
Joining a corsair's crew. 
O'er the dark sea I flew 

With the marauders. 
Wild was the life we led ; 
Many the souls that sped, 
Many the hearts that bled, 

By our stern orders. 

"Many a wassail-bout 
Wore the long winter out ; 
Often our midnight shout 

Set the cocks crowing. 
As we the Berserk's 2 tale 
Measured in cups of ale. 
Draining the oaken pail. 

Filled to o'eriiowing. 

"Once as I told in glee 
Tales of the stormy sea, 
Soft eyes did gaze on me, 

Burning yet tender ; 
And as the white stars shine 
On the dark Norway pine. 
On that dark heart of mine 

Fell their soft splendor. 

1 A fabulous creature of wolf form, man intelligence. 2 See p. 53, note. 



THE SKELETON IN ARMOR 167 

"I wooed the blue-eyed maid, 
Yielding, yet half afraid. 
And in the forest's shade 

Our vows were plighted. 
Under its loosened vest 
Fluttered her little breast. 
Like birds within their nest 

By the hawk frighted. 

"Bright in her father's hall 
Shields gleamed upon the wall, 
Loud sang the minstrels all. 

Chanting his glory ; 
When of old Hildebrand 
I asked his daughter's hand, 
Mute did the minstrels stand 

To hear my story. 

"While the brown ale he quaffed. 
Loud then the champion laughed. 
And as the wind gusts waft 

The sea foam brightly. 
So the loud laugh of scorn, 
Out of those lips unshorn, 
From th'e deep drinking horn 
Blew the foam lightly. 

"She was a Prince's child, 

I but a Viking wild, 

And though she blushed and smiled 

I was discarded ! 
Should not the dove so white 
Follow the sea mew's flight, 
Why did they leave that night 

Her nest junguarded ? 



i68 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 

*' Scarce had I put to sea, 
Bearing the maid with me, 
Fairest of all was she 

Among the Norsemen ! 
When on the white seastrand, 
Waving his armed hand, 
Saw we old Hildebrand, 

With twenty horsemen. 

"Then launched they to the blast. 
Bent like a reed each mast. 
Yet we were gaining fast, 

When the wind failed us ; 
And with a sudden flaw 
Came round the gusty Skaw,^ 
So that our foe we saw 

Laugh as he hailed us, 

''And as to catch the gale 
Round veered the flapping sail, 
Death I was the helmsman's hail, 

Death without quarter ! 
Midships with iron keel 
Struck we her ribs of steel ; 
Down her black hulk did reel 

Through the black water ! 

"As with his wings aslant. 
Sails the fierce cormorant. 
Seeking some rocky haunt, 

With his prey laden. 
So toward the open main. 
Beating to sea again. 
Through the wild hurricane. 

Bore I the maiden. 

^ Cape on northwest coast of Denmark. 



THE SKELETON IN ARMOR 169 

''Three weeks we westward bore, 
And when the storm was o'er, 
Cloud-like we saw the shore 

Stretching to leeward; 
There for my lady's bower 
Built I the lofty tower, 
Which, to this very hour, 

Stands looking seaward. 

"There lived we many years ; 
Time dried the maiden's tears ; 
She had forgot her fears. 

She was a mother ; 
Death closed her mild blue eyes, 
Under that tower she lies ; 
Ne'er shall the sun arise 

On such another ! 

"Still grew my bosom then. 
Still as a stagnant fen ! 
Hateful to me were men. 

The sunlight hateful ! 
In the vast forest here. 
Clad in my warlike gear, 
Fell I upon my spear, 

O, d^^ath was grateful ! 

"Thus, seamed with many scars, 
Bursting these prison bars. 
Up to its native stars 

My soul ascended ! 
There from the flowing bowl 
Deep drinks the warrior's soul, 
Skoal! to the Northland ! skoal !''^ 

— Thus the tale ended. 

1 In Scandinavia, the customary salutation in drinking a health. 



I70 HENRY WADS WORTH LONGFELLOW 

STUDY HINTS 

How many fine comparisons {i.e. similes) can you find in this poem? 
Has the poet made you feel the fierce, reckless character of the old 
Viking? Where does he show that he was capable of very tender feel- 
ing ? What was his fate ? Is this not a stirring ballad ? Read it aloud 
and see if the swing of the verse adds to the effect. Memorize two 
favorite stanzas, if not the entire poem. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Discoverer of the North Cape. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

The Leap of Roushan Beg. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

The Courtship of Miles Standish. Henry Wadsworth LongfeUow. 

The Old Clock on the Stairs. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

Rain in Summer. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

The Children's Hour. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

The Arrow and the Song. Henry Wadsworth LongfeUow. 

The Day is Done. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. 

Lord Ullin's Daughter. Thomas Campbell. 

Lochinvar (Marmion, Canto V). Sir Walter Scott. 

Allan-a-Dale. Sir Walter Scott. 

A Sea Song. AUan Cunningham. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Selections from Longfellow's The Building of the Ship. 



THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS ^ 
Nathaniel Hav/thorne 

Nathaniel Hawthorne (i 804-1 864) was born in Salem, Massachu- 
setts. He was from early childhood fond of solitude, and of brooding 
upon tales of witchcraft and legends of the colonial days. Possibly 
young people know best his A Wonder Book, Tanglewood Tales, and 
Twice-Told Tales. His greatest romances are The Scarlet Letter, The 
House of the Seven Gables, and The Marble Faun. Many consider Haw- 
thorne America's greatest prose writer. The moral truth and beauty 
of his stories stamp him as a writer of lofty ideals. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 204-221, 283. 

Julian Hawthorne's Nathaniel Hawthorne and his Wife. 

George Woodberry's Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Bridge's Personal Recollections of Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Introduction to The Scarlet Letter. 

Captain John Hull was the mintmaster of Massachu- 
setts, and coined all the money that was made there. This 
was a new line of business : for, in the earlier days of the 
colony, the current coinage consisted of gold and silver 
money of England, Portugal, and Spain. These coins being 
scarce, the people were often forced to barter their com- 
modities instead of selling them. 

For instance, if a man wanted to buy a coat, he perhaps 
exchanged a bearskin for it. If he wished for a barrel of 
molasses, he might purchase it with a pile of pine boards. 
Musket bullets were used instead of farthings. The Indians 
had a sort of money, called wampum, which was made of 
clamshells ; and this strange sort of specie was likewise taken 

1 From Grandfather's Chair (1841). Used by permission of, and by arrangement with, 
Houghton Mifflin Company, authorized publishers of Hawthorne's works. 
^ 171 



172 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

in payment of debts by the English settlers. Bank bills had 
never been heard of. There was not money enough of any 
kind, in many parts of the country, to pay the salaries of 
the ministers ; so that they sometimes had to take quintals 
of fish, bushels of corn, or cords of wood, instead of silver or 
gold. 

As the people grew more numerous, and their trade one 
with another increased, the want of current money was still 
more sensibly felt. To supply the demand, the general 
court passed a law for estabHshing a coinage of shillings,^ 
sixpences, and threepences. Captain John Hull was ap- 
pointed to manufacture this money, and was to have about 
one shilling out of every twenty to pay him for the trouble 
of making them. 

Hereupon all the old silver in the colony was handed over 
to Captain John Hull. The battered silver cans and tank- 
ards, I suppose, and silver buckles, and broken spoons, and 
silver buttons of worn-out coats, and silver hilts of swords 
that had figured at court, all such curious old articles were 
doubtless thrown into the melting pot together. But by 
far the greater part of the silver consisted of bullion from 
the mines of South America, which the English buccaneers 
(who were little better than pirates) had taken from the 
Spaniards, and brought to Massachusetts. 

All this old and new silver being melted down and coined, 
the result was an immense amount of splendid shillings, 
sixpences, and threepences. Each had the date, 1652, on 
the one side, and the figure of a pine tree on the other. 
Hence they were called pine-tree shillings. And for every 
twenty shillings that he coined, you will remember, Captain 
John Hull was entitled to put one shilling into his own 
pocket. 

The magistrates soon began to suspect that the mint- 

^ About twenty-five cents, twelve cents, six cents, respectively. 



THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS 173 

master would have the best of the bargain. They offered 
him a large sum of money if he would but give up that 
twentieth shilling which he was continually dropping into 
his own pocket. But Captain Hull declared himself per- 
fectly satisfied with the shilling. And well he might be; 
for so diligently did he labor that in a few years, his pockets, 
his moneybags, and his strong box were overflowing with 
pine-tree shillings. This was probably the case when he 
came into possession of Grandfather's chair ; and, as he had 
worked so hard at the mint, it was certainly proper that he 
should have a comfortable chair to rest himself in. 

When the mintmaster had grown very rich, a young man, 
Samuel Sewall by name, came a-courting to his only daughter. 
His daughter — whose name I do not know, but we will 
call her Betsey — was a fine, hearty damsel, by no means 
so slender as some young ladies of our own days. On the 
contrary, having always fed heartily on pumpkin pies, 
doughnuts, Indian puddings, and other Puritan dainties, 
she was as round and plump as a pudding herself. With 
this round, rosy Miss Betsey did Samuel Sewall fall in love. 
As he was a young man of good character, industrious in 
his business, and a member of the church, the mintmaster 
very readily gave his consent. 

"Yes — you may ta%:e her," said he in his rough way, 
"and you'll find her a heavy burden enough !" 

On the wedding day, we may suppose that honest John 
Hull dressed himself in a plum-colored coat, all the buttons 
of which were made of pine-tree shillings. The buttons of 
his waistcoat were sixpences; and the knees of his small- 
clothes were buttoned with silver threepences. Thus 
attired, he sat with great dignity in Grandfather's chair; 
and, being a portly old gentleman, he completely filled it 
from elbow to elbow. On the opposite side of the room, 
between her bridemaids sat Miss Betsey. She was blushing 



174 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

with all her might, and looked like a full blown peony, or a 
great red apple. 

There, too, was the bridegroom, dressed in a fine purple 
coat and gold lace waistcoat, with as much other finery as 
the Puritan laws and customs would allow him to put on. 
His hair was cropped close to his head, because Governor 
Endicott had forbidden any man to wear it below the ears. 
But he was a very personable young man ; and so thought 
the bridemaids and Miss Betsey herself. 

The mintmaster also was pleased with his new son-in-law ; 
especially as he had courted Miss Betsey out of pure love, 
and had said nothing at all about her portion. So, when 
the marriage ceremony was over, Captain Hull whispered 
a word to two of his menservants, who immediately went 
out, and soon returned, lugging in a large pair of scales. 
They were such a pair as wholesale merchants use for weigh- 
ing bulky commodities ; and quite a bulky commodity was 
now to be weighed in them. 

''Daughter Betsey," said the mintmaster, "get into one 
side of these scales." 

Miss Betsey — or Mrs. Sewall, as we must now call her 
— did as she was bid, like a dutiful child, without any ques- 
tion of the why and wherefore. But what her father could 
mean, unless to make her husband pay for her by the pound 
(in which case she would have been a dear bargain), she had 
not the least idea. 

"And now," said honest John Hull to the servants, "bring 
that box hither." 

The box to which the mintmaster pointed was a huge, 
square, iron-bound, oaken chest; it was big enough, my 
children, for all four of you to play at hide and seek in. 
The servants tugged with might and main, but could not 
lift this enormous receptacle, and were finally obliged to 
drag it across the floor. Captain Hull then took a key 



THE PINE-TREE SHILLINGS 



175 



from his girdle, unlocked the chest, and lifted its ponderous 
lid. Behold! It was full to the brim of bright pine-tree 
shillings, fresh from the mint ; and Samuel Sewall began to 
think that his father-in-law had got possession of all the 
money in the Massachusetts treasury. But it was only 
the mintmaster's 
honest share of the 
coinage. 

Then the serv- 
ants, at Captain 
Hull's command, 
heaped double 
handfuls of shil- 
lings into one side 
of the scales, while 
Betsey remained in 
the other. Jingle, jingle, went the shillings, as handful 
after handful was thrown in, till, plump and ponderous as 
she was, they fairly weighed the young lady from the floor. 

"There, son Sewall!" cried the honest mintmaster, re- 
suming his seat in Grandfather's chair. "Take these shillings 
for my daughter's portion. Use her kindly, and thank 
heaven for her. It is not every wife that's worth her weight 
in silver ! " 








STUDY HINTS 




Study the spelling 


and 


meaning of these words : 


coinage 




magistrate 


manufacture 


bargain 




probably 


commodities 


salary- 




opposite 


ponderous 


current 




treasury 


bulky 



Why were there so many different kinds of money in our country at 
first? What served as money among the Indians? Can you explain 
why our first money was made in the form of shillings, sixpences, and 
threepences, instead of the present forms? Did Captain John Hull 



176 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

make a good bargain with the magistrates? Why? Was he fond of a 
joke? Why was money invented? Did Robinson Crusoe value the bag 
of gold that he found when first shipwrecked ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Tell the story of the way in which you made your collection of marbles, 
or posters, or any other collection popular in your community. De- 
scribe some form of bartering you have used. Write an imaginary 
incident of a community which has been robbed of every cent and can- 
not procure any money for a month. They must not use the "credit" 
system. 

Tell the story of Miles Standish's Courtship as if you were Priscilla's 
sister, and express your opinion of Miles Standish. 

Wampum. A Visit to a Mint. 

Who Designs our Paper Dollars? The Lincoln Cent. 

A New England Sunday in Colonial My Favorite Story of Colonial 
Days. Times. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Tanglewood Tales. Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Feathertop (from Mosses from an Old Manse). Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Browne's Wooden Image (from Mosses from an Old Manse). Na- 
thaniel Hawthorne. 

The Gray Champion (from Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

The Gentle Boy (from Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

The Great Stone Face (from The Snow Image). Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Mr. Higginbotham' s Catastrophe (from Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel 
Hawthorne. 

Dr. Heidegger'' s Experiment (from Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel 
Hawthorne. 

Lady Eleanor e's Mantle (from Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel Haw- 
thorne. 

The Minister's Black Veil (from Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel 
Hawthorne. 

The Great Carbuncle (from Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

Howe's Masquerade (from Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

A New England Girlhood. Lucy Larcom. 

In Colonial Times. Mary Wilkins Freeman. 

The Diary of Anna Green Winslow. A. M. Earle (Ed.). 



WOUTER VAN TWILLER ^ 
Washington Irving 

Washington Irving (i 783-1 859) was born in New York City. He 
has been rightly called the "Father of American Literature." During 
his boyhood, the colonies were occupied with establishing a new form of 
government, and welding themselves into one nation. They had no time 
for literature. Irving was the first American writer to win recognition 
in Europe. He spent much of his youth in prying around the quaint 
Dutch quarters of New York, and he has preserved in his writings much 
of the early history of New York, gleaned in this way. He was secre- 
tary of the legation at London, and later minister to Spain. He, how- 
ever, gladly returned to spend his remaining years at beautiful Sunny- 
side, overlooking the Hudson River. His Legend of Sleepy Hollow and 
Rip Van Winkle should be familiar to every boy and girl in America. 
See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 112-124, 151. 

Warner's Washington Irving. 

Pierre M. Irving's The Life and Letters of Washington Irving. 

It was in the year of our Lord 1629 that Mynheer Wouter 
Van Twiller was appointed governor of the province of Nieuw 
Nederlandts,^ under the commission and control of their 
High Mightinesses the Lords States General of the United 
Netherlands, and the privileged West India Company. 

This renowned old gentleman arrived at New Amsterdam ^ 
in the merry month of June, the sweetest month in all the 
year ; when dan ^ Apollo ^ seems to dance up the transparent 

1 From Knickerbocker's History of New York. 

2 That part of the American colonies extending from the Delaware to the Connecticut 
River. 

' The capital of the Dutch colony, now New York City. 

* A quaint term for "master." ^ xhe Greek god of the sun. 

H. & B. readings' — 12 1 77 



178 



WASHINGTON IRVING 



firmament, — when the robin, the thrush, and a thousand 
other wanton songsters, make the woods to resound with 
amorous ditties, and the luxurious little boblincon revels 
among the clover blossoms of the meadows, — all which 
happy coincidence persuaded the old dames of New Amster- 
dam, who were skilled in the art of foretelling events, that 
this was to be a happy and prosperous administration. 

The renowned Wouter (or Walter) Van Twiller was de- 
scended from a long line of Dutch burgomasters, who had 

successively dozed away 
their lives, and grown 
fat upon the bench of 
magistracy in Rotter- 
dam; and who had 
comported themselves 
with such singular wis- 
dom and propriety, that 
they were never either 
heard or talked of — 
which, next to being 
universally applauded, 
should be the object of 
ambition of all magis- 
trates and rulers. 
There are two opposite 
ways by which some 
men make a figure in 
the world : one, by talking faster than they think, and the 
other, by holding their tongues and not thinking at all. By 
the first, many a smatterer acquires the reputation of a man 
of quick parts ; by the other, many a dunderpate, like the owl, 
the stupidest of birds, comes to be considered the very type 
of wisdom. This, by the way, is a casual remark, which I 
would not, for the universe, have it thought I apply to Gov- 




WOUTER VAN TWILLER 179 

ernor Van Twiller. It is true he was a man shut up within 
himself, Uke an oyster, and rarely spoke, except in mono- 
syllables; but then it was allowed he seldom said a foolish 
thing. So invincible was his gravity that he was never known 
to laugh or even to smile through the whole course of a long 
and prosperous life. Nay, if a joke were uttered in his pres- 
ence, that set light-minded hearers in a roar, it was observed 
to throw him into a state of perplexity. Sometimes he would 
deign to inquire into the matter, and when, after much 
explanation, the joke was made as plain as a pike-staff, he 
would continue to smoke his pipe in silence, and at length, 
knocking out the ashes, would exclaim, " Well ! I see nothing 
in all that to laugh about." 

With all his reflective habits, he never made up his mind 
on a subject. His adherents accounted for this by the 
astonishing magnitude of his ideas. He conceived every 
subject on so grand a scale that he had not room in his head 
to turn it over and examine both sides of it. Certain it is, 
that, if any matter were propounded to him on which ordi- 
nary mortals would rashly determine at first glance, he 
would put on a vague, mysterious look, shake his capacious 
head, smoke some time in profound silence, and at length 
observe, that ''he had his doubts about the matter"; 
which gained him th'e reputation of a man slow of belief 
and not easily imposed upon. What is more, it gained him 
a lasting name; for to this habit of the mind has been 
attributed his surname of Twiller; which is said to be a 
corruption of the original Twijfler, or, in plain English, 
Doubter. 

The person of this illustrious old gentleman was formed 
and proportioned, as though it had been molded by the 
hands of some cunning Dutch statuary, as a model of majesty 
and lordly grandeur. He was exactly five feet six inches in 
height, and six feet five inches in circumference. His head 



i8o WASHINGTON IRVING 

was a perfect sphere, and of such stupendous dimensions, 
that Dame Nature, with all her sex's ingenuity, would have 
been puzzled to construct a neck capable of supporting it; 
wherefore she wisely declined the attempt, and settled it 
firmly on the top of his backbone, just between the shoulders. 
His body was oblong and particularly capacious at the hips; 
which was wisely ordered by Providence, seeing that he was 
a man of sedentary habits, and very averse to the idle labor 
of walking. His legs were short, but sturdy in proportion 
to the weight they had to sustain ; so that when erect he 
had not a little the appearance of a beer barrel on skids. 
His face, that infallible index of the mind, presented a vast 
expanse, unfurrowed by any of those lines and angles which 
disfigure the human countenance with what is termed expres- 
sion. Two small gray eyes twinkled feebly in the midst, 
like two stars of lesser magnitude in a hazy firmament, 
and his full-fed cheeks, which seemed to have taken toll 
of everything that went into his mouth, were curiously 
mottled and streaked with dusky red, like a spitzenburgh 
apple. 

His habits were as regular as his person. He daily took 
his four stated meals, appropriating exactly an hour to each ; 
he smoked and doubted eight hours, and he slept the re- 
maining twelve of the four and twenty. Such was the 
renowned Wouter Van Twiller, — a true philosopher, for his 
mind was either elevated above, or tranquilly settled below, 
the cares and perplexities of this world. He had lived in it 
for years, without feeling the least curiosity to know whether 
the sun revolved round it, or it round the sun ; and he had 
watched, for at least half a century, the smoke curling from 
his pipe to the ceiling, without once troubling his head with 
any of those numerous theories by which a philosopher would 
have perplexed his brain, in accounting for its rising above 
the surrounding atmosphere. 



WOUTER VAN TWILLER i8i 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

transparent perplexity infallible 

coincidence capacious countenance 

doze sedentary ingenuity 

Has Irving followed any plan in this description of Van Twiller? 
What is his plan? What do you think of Van Twiller's character? Of 
his habits? What does the expression "Taken toll of everything that 
went into his mouth" mean? Does the author describe his hero directly 
or indirectly? Prove your point by two illustrations. What do you 
consider the most humorous part of the description? How would you 
describe Irving's humor? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Imitating Irving's method of description, describe, without giving 
his name, a person familiar to the class. Think what it is that causes 
you to recognize him even before you are near enough to see his face 
distinctly. Has he any unusual feature that makes him noticeable? 
Has he any characteristic gestures or expressions? How do his clothes 
differ from those of other people ? Whatever, in a word, that makes him 
different from others should be shown in your description. Describe a 
building or a room, bringing out its chief feature. Contrast Ichabod 
Crane with Wouter Van Twiller. Describe a man to show that he is a 
clergyman or a doctor. ^ 

The Roundest Person I ever Saw. A Tramp. 

Why We Called Him "Skinny." Somebody's Grandmother. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Stout Gentleman (in Bracebridge Hall). Washington Irving. 

Dolph Heyliger (in Bracebridge Hall) . Washington Irving. 

Legends of the Alhambra. Washington Irving. 

The Specter Bridegroom (in Sketchbook). Washington Irving. 

The Belated Travelers (in Tales of a Traveler) . Washington Irving. 

In Leisler^s Times. E. S. Brooks. 

Nooks and Corners of Old New York. Charles Hemstreet. 



A SECOND GROUP OF NATURE LYRICS 

ARIEL'S SONGi 

William Shakespeare 
[For biographical sketch see page 221.] 

Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; 

In a cowslip's bell I lie : 

There I couch when owls do cry. 

On the bat's back I do fly 

After summer, merrily. 

Merrily, merrily shall I live now, 

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. 

DAFFODILS 

William Wordsworth 
[For biographical sketch see page 93.] 

I WANDERED louely as a cloud 

That floats on high o'er vales and hills, 

When all at once I saw a crowd, 

A host, of golden daffodils ; 

Beside the lake, beneath the trees. 

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. 

Continuous as the stars that shine 
And twinkle on the milky way, 
They stretched in never-ending line 
Along the margin of a bay : 

1 From The Tempest. 
182 



ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET 183 

Ten thousand saw I at a glance, 
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. 

The waves beside them danced, but they 

Outdid the sparkling waves in glee : — 

A poet could not but be gay 

In such a jocund company : 

I gazed — and gazed — but little thought 

What wealth the show to me had brought. 

For oft when on my couch I lie 

In vacant or in pensive mood. 

They flash upon that inward eye 

Which is the bliss of solitude, 

And then my heart with pleasure fills, 

And dances with the daffodils. 



ON THE GRASSHOPPER AND CRICKET 

John Keats 

John Keats (i 795-1821) was born in London. For a short time he 
studied surgery but gave it up to become a poet. His poetical creed was : 
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever." He especially loved the beau- 
tiful things in the world of the senses. Before he died, at the age of 
twenty-five, he had written more beautiful verse than any other poet 
of his years. One of Shelley's greatest poems is Adonais, an elegy on 
Keats. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 426-435, 447. 

Colvin's Keats. 

Rossetti's Life of Keats. ^ 

The poetry of earth is never dead : 

When all the birds are faint with the hot sun, 

And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run 

From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead ; 

That is the grasshopper's — he takes the lead 



1 84 SECOND GROUP OF NATURE LYRICS 

In summer luxury, — he has never done 

With his deUghts ; for when tired out with fun 

He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed. 

The poetry of earth is ceasing never ; 

On a lone winter evening, when the frost 

Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills 

The cricket's song, in warmth increasing ever, 

And seems to one in drowsiness half lost, 

The grasshopper's among some grassy hills. 

THREE PICTURES FROM THE PALACE OF ART 

Alfred Tennyson 

Alfred Tennyson (1809-189 2) was bom in Somersby, Lincolnshire. 
He divides honors with Browning as one of the two greater poets of the 
Victorian age. In Memoriam, a poem on the death of his most intimate 
friend ; the Idylls of the King, celebrating the deeds of King Arthur and 
the Knights of the Round Table ; and some of his short lyrics, are his 
most famous poems. He was a careful student of nature and his poetry 
reflects the thought of the Victorian age. The artistic finish of his 
verse is one of its great charms. He said that he could have transferred 
many of his stanzas to canvas if he had been a painter. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 553-563? S^S- 

Alfred, Lord Tennyson, A Memoir, by his son. 

Benson's Alfred Tennyson. 

Lyall's Tennyson. 

One showed an iron coast and angry waves. 

You seemed to hear them climb and fall 
And roar rock-thwarted under bellowing caves, 

Beneath the windy wall. 

And one, a full-fed river winding slow 

By herds upon an endless plain, 
The ragged rims of thunder brooding low. 

With shadow-streaks of rain. 



THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE 185 

And one, an English home — gray twilight poured 

On dewy pastures, dewy trees, 
Softer than sleep — all things in order stored, 

A haunt of ancient Peace. 



THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE 1 

William Butler Yeats 

William Butler Yeats (1865- ), was born in Dublin, Ireland. 
He has done much to revive Irish folklore, besides writing exquisite 
lyrics, and plays full of patriotic feeling and of the childHke superstition 
of his country. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. S97-599j 616, 617, 623. 

Krans's William Butler Yeats and the Irish Literary Revival. 

I WILL arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, 
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made ; 
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honey bee, 
And live alone in the bee-loud glade. 

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping 

slow. 
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket 

sings ; 
There midnight's all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow, 
And evening full of the linnet's wings. 

I will arise and go now, for always night and day 
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore ; 
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray, 
I hear it in the deep heart's core. 

1 From The Poetical Works of William B. Yeats, copyright, 1906, by The Macmillan 
Company. Used by special arrangement with the publishers. 



i86 SECOND GROUP OF NATURE LYRICS 



STUDY HINTS 

When Prospero heard Ariel's song, he said: "Why, that's my dainty 
Ariel : I shall miss thee." He was the daintiest of Shakespeare's crea- 
tions, a spirit that thrilled with joy as he sang of his companionship 
with the beautiful things in nature. We know that Shakespeare loved 
Ariel and the things in nature that Ariel enjoyed. Note the airiness of 
this song. What natural objects are mentioned? Is this song as simple 
as the average of those in the preceding group of nature lyrics (p. 91)? 

Can you find the secret of the magic in Wordsworth's Dafodils? 
Note that he calls them a "jocund company." How does the poet con- 
vey to you the joyousness of the flowers ? Which do you think would 
be the most quoted of these four stanzas? How many times may one 
enjoy the same pleasurable experience ? Is this poem easily imderstood ? 

Note that the poem of Keats is a sonnet. The sonnet is the most 
artificial of all verse forms, and contains exactly fourteen lines. Eng- 
land's four greatest writers of sonnets are Shakespeare, Milton, Words- 
worth, and Keats. What terms does Keats use to describe summer ? 
Under what circumstances does the cricket sing? How does the 
poet introduce a compliment to the grasshopper in the cricket's part of 
the poem ? 

Tennyson is here describing imaginary pictures in his fanciful Palace 
of Art. Do you think that a great artist could paint three pictures from 
the suggestions in these three stanzas? Which one of the pictures would 
you prefer ? Have you read any other poem where the pictures are as 
clear-cut and vivid ? Try embodying a picture in four lines of your own 
verse. 

Note the simplicity of the first and third stanzas of The Lake Isle of 
Innisfree. Try to feel the beauty of the second stanza, which is quite 
famous. Does the poem make you wish to visit this isle? Would many 
people be content with the simple things which satisfy the poet ? How 
many of the objects of sense appeal to the eye? To the ear? 

Which of this group of five poems pleases you most? Memorize that 
one. After reading them at least twice aloud to yourself and studying 
them as directed above, read them to some of your friends and get their 
opinions. Which of the two groups of nature poems do you prefer as a 
whole, this one or the one beginning on page 91 ? Is there a single 



THE LAKE ISLE OF INNISFREE 187 

obscure poem in either group? Are the poems simple because their 
authors were not deep thinkers? Can a great poet present thoughts 
easy to understand ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

To the Daisy. WilUam Wordsworth. 

The Solitary Reaper. WilHam Wordsworth. 

Three Years She Grew in Sun and Shower. William Wordsworth. 

She Dwelt among the Untrodden Ways. Wilham Wordsworth. 

To the Daisy (5 stanzas). Robert Burns. 

To the Dandelion. James R. Lowell. 

To the Fringed Gentian. WilHam CuUen Bryant. 

A Rose. Emily Dickinson. 

A Tulip. Emily Dickinson. 

To the Grasshopper and the Cricket. Leigh Hunt. 

The Cricket. Percy Mackaye. 

To a Cricket. William C. Bennett. 

The Revenge. Alfred Tennyson. 

Break, Break, Break. Alfred Tennyson. 

Songs from The Princess. Alfred Tennyson. 

Sweet and Low. 

The Bugle Song. 

Home They Brought her Warrior, Dead. 
Crossing the Bar. Alfred Tennyson. 
The Lady of Shalott. Alfred Tennyson. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Tennyson's Sir Galahad^ Selections from Lancelot and Elaine and 
from Gareth and Lynette. 



LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE i 
Charles Dickens 

Charles Dickens (i8i 2-1870) was born in Portsmouth, England. At 
the age of eleven, he helped to support his family. His boyhood was 
spent in a hard struggle with poverty, but from this struggle he learned 
to sympathize with other poor children. No one has done more to im- 
prove the condition of children in every walk of life. His Little Nell, 
Paul Dombey, Sam Weller, and David Copperfield are characters known 
to most English-speaking people. One of his most dramatic novels is 
A Tale of Two Cities, which is a thrilling story of the French Revolu- 
tion. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 495-503, 582, 583. 

Chesterton's Charles Dickens. 

Foster's Life of Dickens. 



[The French Revolution occurred in the latter part of the eighteenth 
century (i 789-1 795). The peasants of France, after centuries of oppres- 
sion from the nobility, threw off the yoke, executed their king, Louis 
XVI, and his queen, Marie Antoinette, and set up a republic. Madame 
Defarge represents the type of woman who took an active part in the 
atrocities which gave to the latter part of this period the name of the 
"Reign of Terror." 

Madame Defarge has threatened to bring the Evremondes to the 
guillotine. Through the aid of Jerry Cruncher, a faithful adherent, and 
Miss Pross, who has served Evremonde's wife with hfelong fidelity, they 
have just escaped from Paris and have started for London.] 



There were many women during the French Revolution 
upon whom the time laid a dreadfully disfiguring hand ; but 
there was not one among them more to be dreaded than that 
ruthless woman, Madame Defarge, now taking her way 



^ From A Tale of Two Cities. 
188 



LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE 189 

along the streets. She was absolutely without pity. To 
appeal to her, was made hopeless by her having no sense of 
pity, even for herself. 

Such a heart Madame Defarge carried under her rough 
robe. Carelessly worn, it was a becoming robe enough, in a 
certain weird way, and her dark hair looked rich under her 
coarse red cap. Lying hidden in her bosom was a loaded 
pistol. Lying hidden at her waist was a sharpened dagger. 
Thus accoutered, and walking with the confident tread of 
such a character, and with the supple freedom of a woman 
who had habitually walked in her girlhood, barefoot and 
barelegged, on the brown sea sand, Madame Defarge took 
her way along the streets. 

Now, when the journey of the traveling coach, at that 
very moment waiting for the completion of its load, had been 
planned out last night, the difficulty of taking Miss Pross in 
it was a serious consideration. Finally, it was settled that 
Miss Pross and Jerry, who were at liberty to leave the city, 
should leave it at three o'clock in the lightest- wheeled con- 
veyance known to that period. 

Seeing in this arrangement the hope of rendering real 
service in that pressing emergency, Miss Pross hailed it with 
joy. She and Jerry had beheld the coach start, had passed 
some ten minutes in tortures of suspense, and were now con- 
cluding their arrangements to follow the coach, even as 
Madame Defarge, taking her way through the streets, now 
drew nearer and nearer to the else-deserted lodging in which 
they held their consultation. 

"Now, what do you think, Mr. Cruncher," said Miss 
Pross, whose agitation was so great that she could hardly 
speak, or stand, or move, or live. " What do you think of 
our not starting from this courtyard? Another carriage 
having gone from here to-day, it might awaken suspicion." 

"My opinion, miss," returned Mr. Cruncher, "is as 



I90 CHARLES DICKENS 

you're right. Likewise, wot I'll stand by you, right or 
wrong." 

"I am so distracted with fear and hope for our precious 
creatures, that I am incapable of forming any plan. Are 
you capable of forming any plan, my dear, good Mr. 
Cruncher?" 

''Respectin' a future spear o' life, miss," returned Mr. 
Cruncher, ''I hope so. Respectin' any present use o' this 
here blessed head o' mine, I think not. Would you do me 
the favor, miss, to take notice o' two promises and wows 
wot it is my wishes fur to record in this here crisis?" 

"Oh, for gracious sake! record them at once, and get 
them out of the way, like an excellent man." 

"First," said Mr. Cruncher, who was all in a tremble, 
and who spoke with an ashy and solemn visage, " them poor 
things well out o' this, never no more will I do it, never no 
more!" 

"I am quite sure, Mr. Cruncher," returned Miss Pross, 
"that you never will do it again, whatever it is, and I beg 
you not to think it necessary to mention more particularly 
what it is." 

"No, miss," returned Jerry, "it shall not be named to 
you. Second : them poor things well out o' this, and never 
no more will I interfere with Mrs. Cruncher's flopping, 
never no more!" 

"Whatever housekeeping arrangement that may be," 
said Miss Pross, striving to dry her eyes and compose her- 
self, "I have no doubt it is best that Mrs. Cruncher should 
have it entirely under her own superintendence — O my poor 
darlings ! " 

"I go so far as to say, miss, morehover, and let my 
words be took down and took to Mrs. Cruncher through 
yourself — that wot my opinions respectin' flopping has 
undergone a change, and that wot I only hope with all my 



LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE 191 

heart as Mrs. Cruncher may be a flopping at the present 
time." 

"There, there, there! I hope she is, my dear man, and 
I hope she finds it answering her expectations." 

And still Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the 
streets, came nearer and nearer. 

"If we ever get back to our native land," said Miss Pross, 
^'you may rely upon my telling Mrs. Cruncher as much as 
I may be able to remember and understand of what you have 
so impressively said; and at all events you may be sure 
that I shall bear witness to your being thoroughly in earnest 
at this dreadful time. Now, pray, let us think ! My 
esteemed Mr. Cruncher, let us think!" 

Still, Madame Defarge, pursuing her way along the streets, 
came nearer and nearer. 

"If you were to go before," said Miss Pross, "and stop 
the vehicle and horses from coming here, and were to wait 
somewhere for me; wouldn't that be best?" 

Mr. Cruncher thought it might be best. 

"Where could you wait for me?" asked Miss Pross. 

Mr. Cruncher was so bewildered that he could think of 
no locality but Temple Bar. Alas, Temple Bar was hundreds 
of miles away, and Madame Defarge was drawing very near 
indeed. ^ 

"By the cathedral door," said Miss Pross. "Would it 
be much out of the way to take me in, near the great cathe- 
dral door between the two towers?" 

"No, miss," answered Mr. Cruncher. 

"Then, like the best of men," said Miss Pross, "go to the 
posting-house straight, and make that change." 

"I am doubtful about leaving of you, you see. We don't 
known what may happen." 

"Heaven knows, we don't," returned Miss Pross, "but 
have no fear for me. Take me in at the cathedral, at three 



192 CHARLES DICKENS 

o'clock, or as near it as you can, and I am sure it will be better 
than our going from here, I feel certain of it. There ! 
Bless you, Mr. Cruncher ! Think — not of me, but of the 
lives that may depend on both of us ! " 

This exordium, and Miss Pross's two hands in quiet 
agonized entreaty clasping his, decided Mr. Cruncher. 
With an encouraging nod or two, he immediately went out 
to alter the arrangements, and left her by herself to follow 
as she had proposed. 

The having originated a precaution which was already in 
course of execution, was a great relief to Miss Pross. The 
necessity of composing her appearance so that it should 
attract no special notice in the streets, was another relief. 
She looked at her watch, and it was twenty minutes past 
two. She had no time to lose, but must get ready at once. 

Afraid, in her extreme perturbation, of the loneliness of 
the deserted rooms, and of half-imagined faces peeping from 
behind every open door in them, Miss Pross got a basin of 
cold water and began laving her eyes, which were swollen 
and red. Haunted by her feverish apprehensions, she could 
not bear to have her sight obscured for a minute at a time 
by the dripping water, but constantly paused and looked 
round to see that there was no one watching her. In one 
of those pauses she recoiled and cried out, for she saw a 
figure standing in the room. 

The basin fell to the ground broken, and the water flowed 
to the feet of Madame Defarge. By strange, stern ways, 
and through much staining blood, those feet had come to 
meet that water. 

Madame Defarge looked coldly at her, and said, "The 
wife of Evremonde ; where is she?" 

It flashed upon Miss Pross's mind that the doors were all 
standing open, and would suggest the flight. Her first act 
was to shut them. There were four in the room, and she 



LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE 193 

shut them all. She then placed herself before the door of 
the chamber which Lucie had occupied. 

Madame Defarge's dark eyes followed her through this 
rapid movement, and rested on her when it was finished. 
Miss Pross had nothing beautiful about her; years had not 
tamed the wdldness, or softened the grimness of her appear- 
ance ; but, she, too, was a determined woman in her different 
way, and she measured Madame Defarge with her eyes, 
every inch. 

"You might, from your appearance, be the wife of Lucifer. 
Nevertheless, you shall not get the better of me. I am an 
Englishwoman." 

''On my way yonder," said Madame Defarge, with a 
slight movement of her hand towards the fatal spot, "where 
they reserve my chair and my knitting for me, I am come to 
make my compliments to her in passing. I wish to see 
her." 

"I know that your intentions are evil," said Miss Pross, 
"and you may depend upon it, I'll hold my own against 
them." - 

Each spoke in her own language ; neither understood the 
other's words ; both were very watchful, and intent to deduce 
from look and manner, what the unintelligible words meant. 

"It will do her no ''good to keep herself concealed from 
me at this moment," said Madame Defarge. " Good patriots 
will know what that means. Let me see her. Go tell her 
that I wish to see her. Do you hear?" 

"If those eyes of yours were bed- winches," returned Miss 
Pross, "and I was an English four-poster, they shouldn't 
loose a splinter of me. No, you wicked foreign woman; I 
am your match." 

"Woman, imbecile and pig-like! I take no answer from 
you. I demand to see her. Either tell her that I demand 
to see her, or stand out of the way of the door and let me go 

H. & B. READINGS — 1 3 



194 ' CHARLES DICKENS 

to her ! " This, with an angry explanatory wave of her right 
arm. 

"I little thought," said Miss Pross, "that I should ever 
want to understand your nonsensical language ; but I would 
give all I have, except the clothes I wear, to know whether 
you suspect the truth, or any part of it." 

Neither of them for a single moment released the other's 
eyes. Madame Defarge had not moved from the spot where 
she stood when Miss Pross first became aware of her; but 
she now advanced one step. 

"I am a Briton," said Miss Pross. ''I am desperate. 
I don't care an English twopence for myself. I know that 
the longer I keep you here, the greater hope there is for my 
Ladybird. I'll not leave a handful of that dark hair upon 
your head, if you lay a finger on me !" 

Thus Miss Pross, with a shake of her head and a flash of 
her eyes between every sentence, and every rapid sentence 
a whole breath. Thus Miss Pross, who had never struck a 
blow in her life. 

But her courage was of that emotional nature that it 
brought the irrepressible tears into her eyes. This was a 
courage that Madame Defarge so little comprehended as to 
mistake for weakness. "Ha ! ha ! " she laughed, "you poor 
wretch ! What are you worth ! I address myself to that 
Doctor." Then she raised her voice and called out, "Citizen 
Doctor! Wife of Evremonde! Child of Evremonde! 
Any person but this miserable fool, answer the Citizeness 
Defarge!" 

Perhaps the following silence, perhaps some latent dis- 
closure in the expression of Miss Pross's face, perhaps a 
sudden misgiving apart from either suggestion, whispered 
to Madame Defarge that they were gone. Three of the 
doors she opened swiftly, and looked in. 

"Those rooms are all in disorder, there has been hurried 



LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE 195 

packing, there are odds and ends upon the ground. There 
is no one in that room behind you ! Let me look." 

"Never !" said Miss Pross, who understood the request as 
perfectly as Madame Defarge understood the answer. 

"If they are not in that room, they are gone, and can be 
pursued and brought back," said Madame Defarge to herself. 

"As long as you don't know whether they are in that 
room or not, you are uncertain what to do," said Miss Pross 
to herself; "and you shall not know that, if I can prevent 
your knowing it; and know that, or not know that, you 
shall not leave here while I can hold you." 

"I have been in the streets from the first, nothing has 
stopped me, I will tear you to pieces, but I will have you 
from that door," said Madame Defarge. 

"We are alone at the top of a high house in a solitary 
courtyard, we are not likely to be heard, and I pray for bodily 
strength to keep you here, while every minute you are here 
is worth a hundred thousand guineas to my darling," said 
Miss Pross. 

Madame Defarge made at the door. Miss Pross, on the 
instinct of the moment, seized her round the waist in both 
her arms, and held her tight. It was in vain for Madame 
Defarge to struggle and to strike; Miss Pross, with the 
vigorous tenacity of l&ve, always so much stronger than hate, 
clasped her tight, and even lifted her from the floor in the 
struggle that they had. The two hands of Madame Defarge 
buffeted and tore her face ; but Miss Pross, with her head 
down, held her round the waist, and clung to her with more 
than the hold of a drowning woman. 

Soon, Madame Defarge's hands ceased to strike, and felt 
at her encircled waist. "It is under my arm," said Miss 
Pross, in smothered tones, "you shall not draw it. I am 
stronger than you, I bless heaven for it. I'll hold you till 
one or other of us faints or dies !" 



196 CHARLES DICKENS 

Madame Defarge's hands were at her bosom. Miss Pross 
looked up, saw what it was, struck at it, struck out a flash 
and a crash, and stood alone — blinded with smoke. 

All this was in a second. As the smoke cleared, leaving 
an awful stillness, it passed out on the air, like the soul of 
Madame Defarge whose body lay lifeless on the ground. 

STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

disfiguring solemn emergency 

habitually ruthless incapable 

conveyance agitation compliment 

suspense feverish recoil 

Try to visualize, i.e. to see with your imagination, Madame Defarge. 
To what trait of her character does the writer call attention? Compare 
your first impression of Miss Pross with that of Madame Defarge. 
What effect is produced upon you by the words "And still Madame De- 
farge came nearer and nearer"? How do we know that Miss Pross is 
very much agitated? What does Miss Pross imply when she says, "I 
am an Englishwoman"? Does she express the same idea at any other 
point? Does she act as your first impression led you to expect? As 
Madame Defarge expected? What made her victorious? Is this 
story thrilling? Why? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

The author begins with teUing what kind of person Madame Defarge 
is, then he proves it by an illustration. What method does he use in 
the case of Miss Pross? 

Dramatize the selection as in Suggestions, p. 106. Assign the parts 
to members of the class and act the scene as the story indicates it should 
be acted. 

Make an outline (i.e. a scenario) of the chief points of this story for a 
moving picture. Act the scene silently. 

Arrange the dialogue of this story as explained on page 106. Select 
what you think can be used as stage directions, and insert in paren- 
theses where you think best. Write a story on this same theme, "Love 



LOVE IS STRONGER THAN HATE 197 

is Stronger than Hate," in which two schoolboys are the characters. 
Try to develop your idea principally by the use of dialogue. 

Tell the story of Miss Pross's encounter, in the character of Miss 
Pross herself. 

Dramatize The Pine-Tree Shillings, p. 171, supplying the necessary 
dialogue. Can you introduce some Indian character to make it more 
picturesque ? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Tale of Two Cities. Charles Dickens. 

A Christmas Carol. Charles Dickens. 

Old Curiosity Shop. Charles Dickens. 

David Copperfield. Charles Dickens. 

Lazarre. Mary H. Catherwood. 

Monsieur Beaucaire. Booth Tarkington. 

A Gentleman of France. Stanley Weyman. 

The Adventures of Franqois. S. Weir Mitchell. 

The Three Musketeers. Alexander Dumas. 

The Boyhood and Youth of Napoleon. Oscar Browning. 



A DAY IN JUNEi 

James Russell Lowell 

James Russell Lowell (1819-1891), born in the suburbs of Cambridge, 
Massachusetts, was descended from a cultured New England family. 
He was sent to Harvard and later had a private tutor at Concord, 
where he knew Emerson. (See The Humhlehee, p. 246.) Like 
Washington Irving, he was minister to Spain. Later he was am- 
bassador to England, in which position he won great popularity. In 
spite of his duties as editor of two well-known magazines, and as lecturer, 
succeeding Longfellow at Harvard, he published many poems and much 
prose. A Day in June is taken from The Vision of Sir Launfal, one of 
his most widely known poems. He lies buried in Mt. Auburn Ceme- 
tery, Cambridge, Massachusetts, not far from Longfellow's resting 
place. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 245-257, 284. 

Scudder's James Russell Lowell : A Biography. 

And what is so rare as a day in June ? 

Then, if ever, come perfect days ; 
Then Heaven tries earth if it be in tune, 

And over it softly her warm ear lays : 
Whether we look, or whether we listen, 5 

We hear life murmur, or see it glisten ; 
Every clod feels a stir of might, 

An instinct within it that reaches and towers, 
And, groping blindly above it for light, 

Climbs to a soul in grass and flowers ; 10 

^ Used by permission of, and by arrangement with, Houghton Miflflin Company 
authorized publishers of Lowell's works. 

198 



A DAY IN JUNE 199 

The flush of life may well be seen 

Thrilling back over hills and valleys ; 
The cowslip startles in meadows green, 

The buttercup catches the sun in its chalice, 
And there's never a leaf nor a blade too mean ^ 15 

To be some happy creature's palace ; 
The Httle bird sits at his door in the sun, 

Atilt like a blossom among the leaves, 
And lets his illumined being o'errun 

With the deluge of summer it receives ; 20 

His mate feels the eggs beneath her wings, 
And the heart in her dumb breast flutters and 

sings ; 
He sings to the wide world, and she to her nest, — 
In the nice ^ ear of Nature which song is the best ? 
We are happy now because God wills it ; 25 

No matter how barren the past may have been, 
'Tis enough for us now that the leaves are green ; 
We sit in the warm shade and feel right well 
How the sap creeps up and the blossoms swell ; 
We may shut our eyes, but we cannot help knowing 30 
That skies are clear and grass is growing ; 
The breeze comes whispering in our ear. 
That dandelions are blossoming near. 

That maize has sprouted, that streams are flowing. 
That the river is bluer than the sky, 35 

That the robin is plastering his house hard by ; 
And if the breeze kept the good news back. 
For other couriers we should not lack ; 

We could guess it all by yon heifer's lowing, — 
And hark ! how clear bold chanticleer, 40 

Warmed with the new wine of the year. 

Tells all in his lusty crowing ! 

1 Humble. ^ Thoughtful, discriminating. 



200 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 

STUDY HINTS 

Can you answer the poet's question on line 24? How many things 
contribute to make a perfect June day? Can you add anything to the 
poet's Hst? What is your favorite month? What would constitute a 
perfect day in that month? Does any part of this resemble Words- 
worth's descriptions of nature? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Fountain. James Russell Lowell. 

Aladdin. James Russell Lowell. 

The Shepherd of King Admetus. James Russell Lowell. 

Sunthin' in the Pastoral Line (from The Biglow Papers, Second Series, 

No. VI). James Russell Lowell. 
Knee-deep in June. James Whitcomb Riley. 
Chanticleer. Celia Thaxter. 



THE CHAPARRAL 1 PRINCE 2 
O. Henry 

O. Henry (1867-1910), whose real name was William Sydney Porter, 
was born in Greensboro, North Carolina. He led a very roving life, at 
one time being a cowboy in Texas, at a,nother, editor of a magazine. 
He finally went to New York in 1902, where he became widely known as 
a writer of short stories. Critics have said that he is the best short- 
story writer that America has produced, with the exception of Poe and 
Hawthorne. See also : 

Bookman, :^S: 168-177 (October, 1913). 

World's Work, 18: 11724-11726 (June, 1909). 

Nine o'clock at last, and the drudging toil of the day was 
ended. Lena climbed to her room in the third half-story of 
the Quarrymen's Hotel. Since dayhght she had slaved, 
doing the work of a full-grown woman, scrubbing the floors, 
washing the heavy ironstone plates and cups, making the 
beds, and supplying the insatiate demands for wood and 
water in that turbulent and depressing hostelry. 

The din of the day's quarrying was over — the blasting 
and drilling, the creaking of the great cranes, the shouts of 
the foremen, the backing and shifting of the flat-cars hauling 
the heavy blocks of limestone. Down in the hotel office 
three or four of the laborers were growling and swearing over 
a belated game of checkers. Heavy odors of stewed meat, 
hot grease, and cheap coffee hung like a depressing fog about 
the house. 

Lena lit the stump of a candle and sat limply upon her 

1 A hardy shrub covering large tracts of land in Texas. 

* Copyright, 1907, by Doubleday, Page & Co. Used by permission of the publishers. 

201 



202 



O. HENRY 




wooden chair. She was eleven years old, thin and ill- 
nourished. Her back and limbs were sore and aching. But 
the ache in her heart made the biggest trouble. The last 

straw had been added to the burden 
upon her small shoulders. They 
had taken away Grimm. ^ Always 
at night, however tired she might 
be, she had turned to Grimm for 
comfort and hope. Each time had 
Grimm whispered to her that the 
prince or the fairy would come 
and deliver her out of the wicked 
enchantment. Every night she 
had taken fresh courage and 
strength from Grimm. 
To whatever tale she read she found an analogy in her own 
condition. The woodcutter's lost child, the unhappy goose 
girl, the persecuted stepdaughter, the little maiden im- 
prisoned in the witch's hut — all these were but transparent 
disguises for Lena, the overworked kitchenmaid in the 
Quarrymen's Hotel. And always when the extremity was 
direst came the good fairy or the gallant prince to the rescue. 
So, here in the ogre's castle, enslaved by a wicked spell, 
Lena had leaned upon Grimm and waited, longing for the 
powers of goodness to prevail. But on the day before Mrs. 
Maloney had found the book in her room and had carried it 
away, declaring sharply it would not do for servants to read 
at night ; they lost sleep and did not work briskly the next 
day. Can one only eleven years old, living away from one's 
mamma, and never having any time to play, live entirely 
deprived of Grimm ? Just try it once, and you will see what 
a difl&cult thing it is. 

Lena's home was in Texas, away up among the little 

1 The Grimm Brothers' Fairy Tales. 



THE CHAPARRAL PRINCE 203 

mountains on the Pedernales River, in a little town called 
Fredericksburg. They are all German people who live in 
Fredericksburg. Of evenings they sit at little tables along 
the sidewalk and drink beer and play pinochle ^ and scat.^ 
They are very thrifty people. 

Thriftiest among them was Peter Hildesmuller, Lena's 
father. And that is why Lena was sent to work in the hotel 
at the quarries, thirty miles away. She earned three dollars 
every week there, and Peter added her wages to his well- 
guarded store. Peter had an ambition to become as rich as 
his neighbor, Hugo Heffelbauer, w^ho smoked a meerschaum 
pipe three feet long and had wiener schnitzel and hasenpfeff er 
for dinner every day in the week. And now Lena was quite 
old enough to work and assist in the accumulation of riches. 
But conjecture, if you can, wha;t it means to be sentenced at 
eleven years of age from a home in the pleasant little Rhine 
village to hard labor in the ogre's castle, where you must fly 
to serve the ogres, while they devour cattle and sheep, 
growling fiercely as they stamp white limestone dust from 
their great shoes for you to sweep and scour with your weak, 
aching fingers. And then — to have Grimm taken away 
from you ! 

Lena raised the lid of an old empty case that had once 
contained canned corn and got out a sheet of paper and a 
piece of pencil. She was going to write a letter to her 
mamma. Tommy Ryan was going to post it for her at 
Ballinger's. Tommy was seventeen, worked in the quarries, 
went home to Ballinger's every night, and was now waiting 
in the shadows under Lena's window for her to throw the 
letter out to him. That was the only way she could send a 
letter to Fredericksburg. Mrs. Maloney did not like for 
her to write letters. 

The stump of candle was burning low, so Lena hastily bit 

1 Simple card games. 



204 O. HENRY 

the wood from around the lead of her pencil and began. 
This is the letter she wrote: 

" Deae^st Mamma : — I want so much to see you. And Gretel and 
Glaus and Heinrich and litde Adolf. I am so tired. I want to see you. 
To-day I was slapped by Mrs. Maloney and had no supper. I could not 
bring in enough wood, for my hand hurt. She took my book yesterday. 
I mean ' Grimms's Fairy Tales/ which Uncle Leo gave me. It did not 
hurt any one for me to read the book. I try to work as well as I can, 
but there is so much to do. I read only a little bit every night. Dear 
mamma, I shall tell you what I am going to do. Unless you send for 
me to-morrow to bring me home I shall go to a deep place I know in the 
river and drown. It is wicked to drown, I suppose, but I wanted to 
see you, and there is no one else. I am very tired, and Tommy is wait- 
ing for the letter. You will excuse me, mamma, if I do it. 
"Your respectful and loving daughter, 

"Lena." 

Tommy was still waiting faithfully when the letter was 
concluded, and when Lena dropped it out she saw him pick 
it up and start up the steep hillside. Without undressing, 
she blew out the candle and curled herself upon the mattress 
on the floor. 

At lo : 30 o'clock old man Ballinger came out of his house 
in his stocking feet and leaned over the gate, smoking his 
pipe. He looked down the big road, white in the moonshine, 
and rubbed one ankle with the toe of his other foot. It was 
time for the Fredericksburg mail to come pattering up the 
road. 

Old man Ballinger had waited only a few minutes when 
he heard the lively hoof beats of Fritz's team of little black 
mules, and very soon afterward his covered spring wagon 
stood in front of the gate. Fritz's big spectacles flashed in 
the moonlight and his tremendous voice shouted a greeting 
to the postmaster of Ballinger's. The mail carrier jumped 
out and took the bridles from the mules, for he always fed 
them oats at Ballinger's. 



THE CHAPARRAL PRINCE 205 

While the mules were eating from their feed bags, old 
man Ballinger brought out the mail sack and threw it into 
the wagon. 

Fritz Bergmann was a man of three sentiments — or to 
be more accurate — four, the pair of mules deserving to be 
reckoned individually. Those mules were the chief interest 
and joy of his existence. Next came the Emperor of Ger- 
many and Lena Hildesmuller. 

"Tell me," said Fritz, when he was ready to start, "con- 
tains the sack a letter to Frau Hildesmuller from the little 
Lena at the quarries ? One came in the last mail to say that 
she is a little sick, already. Her mamma is very anxious to 
hear again." 

"Yes," said old man Ballinger, "thar's a letter for Mrs. 
Helterskelter, or some sich name. Tommy Ryan brung it 
over when he come. Her little gal workin' over thar, you 
say?" 

"In the hotel," shouted Fritz, as he gathered up the 
lines; "eleven years old and not bigger as a frankfurter. 
The close-fist of a Peter Hildesmuller ! — some day shall I 
with a big club pound that man's dummkopf ^ — all in and 
out the town. Perhaps in this letter Lena will say that she 
is yet feeling better. So, her mamma will be glad. Auf 
wiedersehen,^ Herr Ballinger — your feets will take cold out 
in the night air." 

"So long, Fritzy," said old man Ballinger. "You got a 
nice cool night for your drive." 

tip the road went the little black mules at their steady 
trot, while Fritz thundered at them occasional words of 
endearment and cheer. 

These fancies occupied the mind of the mail carrier until 
he reached .ne big post oak forest, eight miles from Ballin- 
ger's. Here his ruminations were scattered by the sudden 

1 German for blockhead. ^ GeTma.n ior Good-by . Literally, "Till I see you again." 

\ 



2o6 O. HENRY 

flash and report of pistols and a whooping as if from a whole 
tribe of Indians, A band of galloping centaurs ^ closed in 
around the mail wagon. One of them leaned over the front 
wheel, covered the driver with his revolver, and ordered him 
to stop. Others caught at the bridles of Bonder and Blitzen. 

" Donnerwetter ! " ^ shouted Fritz, with all his tremendous 
voice — ^'was ist? Release your hands from dose mules. 
Ve vas der United States mail !" 

" Hurry up, Dutch ! " drawled a melancholy voice. " Don't 
you know when you're in a stick-up? Reverse your mules 
and climb out of the cart." 

It is due to the breadth of Hondo Bill's demerit and the 
largeness of his achievements to state that the holding up 
of the Fredericksburg mail was not perpetrated by way of 
an exploit. As the lion while in the pursuit of prey com- 
mensurate to his prowess might set a frivolous foot upon a 
casual rabbit in his path, so Hondo Bill and his gang had 
swooped sportively upon the pacific transport of Meinherr 
Fritz. 

The real work of their sinister night ride was over. Fritz 
and his mail bag and his mules came as a gentle relaxation, 
grateful after the arduous duties of their profession. Twenty 
miles to the southeast stood a train with a killed engine, 
hysterical passengers, and a looted express and mail car. 
That represented the serious occupation of Hondo Bill and 
his gang. With a fairly rich prize of currency and silver the 
robbers were making a wide detour to the west through the 
less populous country, intending to seek safety in Mexico 
by means of some fordable spot on the Rio Grande. The 
booty from the train had melted the desperate bushrangers 
to jovial and happy skylarkers. 

1 Mythical creatures half man and half horse. The writer means that they rode so 
well they seemed a part of the horse. 

2 Thunderation ! 



THE CHAPARRAL PRINCE 207 

Trembling with outraged dignity and no little personal 
apprehension, Fritz climbed out to the road after replacing 
his suddenly removed spectacles. The band had dismounted 
and were singing, capering, and whooping, thus expressing 
their satisfied delight in the life of a jolly outlaw. Rattle- 
snake Rogers, who stood at the heads of the mules, jerked a 
little too vigorously at the rein of the tender-mouthed Bon- 
der, w^ho reared and emitted a loud, protesting snort of pain. 
Instantly Fritz, with a scream of anger, flew at the bulky 
Rogers and began to assiduously pommel that surprised free- 
booter with his fists. 

"Villain!" shouted Fritz, "dog, bigstiff ! Dot mule he 
has a soreness by his mouth. I vill knock off your shoulders 
mit your head — robbermans ! " 

"Yi-yi!" howled Rattlesnake, roaring with laughter and 
ducking his head, "somebody git this here sauerkrout off'n 
me!" 

One of the band yanked Fritz back by the coat tail, 
and the woods rang with Rattlesnake's vociferous com- 
ments. 

"The . . . little Wienerwurst," he yelled, amiably. "He's 
not so much of a skunk, for a Dutchman. Took up for his 
animile plum quick, didn't he? I like to see a man like his 
hoss, even if it is a mule. The dad-blamed little Limburger, 
he went for me, ^didn't he ! Whoa, now, muley — I ain't 
a-goin' to hurt your mouth agin any more." 

Perhaps the mail would not have been tampered with had 
not Ben Moody, the lieutenant, possessed certain wisdom 
that seemed to promise more spoils. 

"Say, Cap," he said, addressing Hondo Bill, "there's 
liable to be good pickings in these mail sacks. I've done 
some hoss tradin' with these Dutchmen around Fredericks- 
burg, and I know the style of the varmints. There's big 
money goes through the mails to that town. Them Dutch 



2o8 O. HENRY 

risk a thousand dollars sent wrapped in a piece of paper 
before they'd pay the banks to handle the money." 

Hondo Bill, six feet two, gentle of voice and impulsive in 
action, was dragging the sacks from the rear of the wagon 
before Moody had finished his speech. A knife shone in 
his hand, and they heard the ripping sound as it bit through 
the tough canvas. The outlaws crowded around and began 
tearing open letters and packages, enlivening their labors by 
swearing affably at the writers, who seemed to have conspired 
to confute the prediction of Ben Moody. Not a dollar was 
found in the Fredericksburg mail. 

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Hondo Bill, 
to the mail carrier in solemn tones, "to be packing around 
such a lot of old, trashy paper as this. What d'you mean 
by it, anyhow? Where do you Butchers keep your money 
at?" 

The Ballinger mail sack opened like a cocoon under 
Hondo's knife. It contained but a handful of mail. Fritz 
had been fuming with terror and excitement until this sack 
was reached. He now remembered Lena's letter. He ad- 
dressed the leader of the band, asking that that particular 
missive be spared. 

"Much obliged, Dutch," he said to the disturbed carrier. 
"I guess that's the letter we want. Got spondulicks in it, 
ain't it? Here she is. Make a light, boys." 

Hondo found and tore open the letter to Mrs. Hildes- 
muller. The others stood about, lighting twisted-up letters 
one from another. Hondo gazed with mute disapproval at 
the single sheet of paper covered with the angular German 
script. 

"Whatever is this you've humbugged us with, Dutchy? 
You call this here a valuable letter? That's a mighty low- 
down trick to play on your friends what come along to help 
you distribute your mail." 



THE CHAPARRAL PRINCE 209 

"That's Chiny writinV' said Sandy Grundy, peering over 
Hondo's shoulder. 

"You're off your kazip," declared another of the gang, an 
effective youth, covered with silk handkerchiefs and nickel 
plating. "That's shorthand. I seen 'em do it once in 
court." 

"Ach, no, no, no — dot is German," said Fritz. "It is 
no more as a little girl writing a letter to her mamma. One 
poor little girl, sick and vorking hard avay from home. 
Ach I it is a shame. Good Mr. Robberman, you vill please 
let me have dot letter?" 

"What the devil do you take us for, old Pretzels?" said 
Hondo with sudden and surprising severity. "You ain't 
presumin' to insinuate that we gents ain't possessed of sufl&- 
cient politeness for to take an interest in the miss's health, 
are you ? Now, you go on, and you read that scratchin' out 
loud and in plain United States language to this here com- 
pany of educated society." 

Hondo twirled his six-shooter by its trigger guard and 
stood towering above the little German, who at once began 
to read the letter, translating the simple words into English. 
The gang of rovers stood in absolute silence, listening in- 
tently. 

"How old is that kid?" asked Hondo when the letter was 
done. 

"Eleven," said Fritz. 

"And where is she at?" 

"At dose rock quarries — working. Ach, mein Gott — 
little Lena, she speak of drowning. I do not know if she vill 
do it, but if she shall I schwear I vill dot Peter Hildesmuller 
shoot mit a gun." 

"You Butchers," said Hondo Bill, his voice swelling 
with fine contempt, "make me plenty tired. Hirin' out your 
kids to work when they ought to be playin' dolls in the sand. 

H. & B. READINGS — 1 4 



2IO O. HENRY 

... I reckon we'll fix your clock for a while just to show 
what we think of your old cheesy nation. Here, boys !" 

Hondo Bill parleyed aside briefly with his band, and then 
they seized Fritz and conveyed him off the road to one side. 
Here they bound him fast to a tree with a couple of lariats. 
His team they tied to another tree near by. 

"We ain't going to hurt you bad," said Hondo reassuringly. 
" 'Twon't hurt you to be tied up for a while. We will now 
pass you the time of day, as it is up to us to depart. Aus- 
gespielt — nixcumrous,^ Dutchy. Don't get any more im- 
patience." 

Fritz heard a great squeaking of saddles as the men 
mounted their horses. Then a loud yell and a great clatter 
of hoofs as they galloped pell-mell back along the Fredericks- 
burg road. 

For more than two hours Fritz sat against his tree, tightly 
but not painfully bound. Then from the reaction after his 
exciting adventure he sank into slumber. How long he 
slept he knew not, but he was at last awakened by a rough 
shake. Hands were untying his ropes. He was lifted to 
his feet, dazed, confused in mind, and weary of body. Rub- 
bing his eyes, he looked and saw that he was again in the 
midst of the same band of terrible bandits. They shoved him 
up to the seat of his wagon and placed the lines in his hands. 

"Hit it out for home, Dutch," said Hondo Bill's voice 
commandingly. "You've given us lots of trouble and we're 
pleased to see the back of your neck. Spiel ! Zwei bier ! 
Vamoose ! " ^ 

Hondo reached out and gave Blitzen a smart cut with 
his quirt. The little mules sprang ahead, glad to be moving 
again. Fritz urged them along, himself dizzy and muddled 
over his fearful adventure. 

1 Like so many other expressions of the robbers, fragments of real German, and non- 
sensical and humorous imitations of Fritz's speech. 



THE CHAPARRAL PRINCE 21 1 

According to schedule time, he should have reached 
Fredericksburg at daylight. As it was, he drove down the 
long street of the town at eleven o'clock a.m. He had to 
pass Peter Hildesmuller's house on his way to the post- 
office. He stopped his team at the gate and called. But 
Frau HildesmuUer was watching for him. Out rushed the 
whole family of Hildesmullers. 

Frau HildesmuUer, fat and flushed, inquired if he had a 
letter from Lena, and then Fritz raised his voice and told 
the tale of his adventure. He told the contents of the 
letter that the robber had made him read, and then Frau 
HildesmuUer broke into wild weeping. Her little Lena 
drown herself ! Why had they sent her from home ? What 
could be done? Perhaps it would be too late by the time 
they could send for her now. Peter HildesmuUer dropped 
his meerschaum on the walk and it shivered into pieces. 

"Woman!" he roared at his wife, "why did you let that 
child go away ? It is your fault if she comes home to us no 
more." 

Every one knew that it was Peter Hildesmuller's fault, 
so they paid no attention to his words. 

A moment afterward a strange, faint voice was heard to 
call: "Mamma!" Frau HildesmuUer at first thought it 
was Lena's spirit calling, and then she rushed to the rear of 
Fritz's covered wagon, and, with a loud shriek of joy, caught 
up Lena herself, covering her pale little face with kisses and 
smothering her with hugs. Lena's eyes were heavy with 
the deep slumber of exhaustion, but she smiled and lay close 
to the one she had longed to see. There among the mail 
sacks, covered in a nest of strange blankets and comforters, 
she had lain asleep until awakened by the voices around her. 

Fritz stared at her with eyes that bulged behind his 
spectacles. 

"Gott in Himmel!" he shouted. "How did you get in 



212 



0. HENRY 



that wagon ? Am I going crazy as well as to be murdered 
and hanged by robbers this day?" 

''You brought her to us, Fritz," cried Herr HildesmuUer. 
''How can we ever thank you enough?" 

"Tell mamma how you came in Fritz's wagon," said Frau 
HildesmuUer. 

"I don't know," said Lena. "But I know how I got away 
from the hotel. The Prince brought me." 

"By the Emperor's crown!" shouted Fritz, "we are all 
going crazy." 

"I always knew he would come," said Lena, sitting down 
on her bundle of bedclothes on the sidewalk. "Last night 
he came with his armed knights and captured the ogre's 
castle. They broke the dishes and kicked down the doors. 
They pitched Mr. Maloney into a barrel of rain water and 
threw flour all over Mrs. Maloney. The workmen in the 
hotel jumped out of the windows and ran into the woods 
when the knights began firing their guns. They wakened 
me up and I peeped down the stair. And then the Prince 







THE CHAPARRAL PRINCE 213 

came up and wrapped me in the bedclothes and carried me 
out. He was so tall and strong and fine. His face was as 
rough as a scrubbing brush, and he talked soft and kind 
and smelled of schnapps. He took me on his horse before 
him and we rode away among the knights. He held me 
close and I went to sleep that way, and didn't wake up till 
I got home." 

"Rubbish!" cried Fritz Bergmann. ''Fairytales! How 
did you come from the quarries to my wagon?" 

"The Prince brought me," said Lena, confidently. 

And to this day the good people of Fredericksburg haven't 
been able to make her give any other explanation. 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

turbulent endearment canvas 

insatiate rein exhaustion 

nourished bridle confidently 

enchantment explanation clothes 

Is your interest in this story awakened at once ? What one comfort 
did Lena have? How did it help her through the long days? Who 
was Grimm? Which of his stories do you think Lena had specially 
in mind ? Why does the author talk so much about Grimm at the begin- 
ning of the story? What connection has Grimm with the title? How 
does Lena's letter affect you ? What expressions arouse your sympathy ? 
Is the letter childlike? How does Fritz show his love for the child ? For 
the mules ? Do the German expressions and the dialect of the outlaws add 
to the interest ? Why was Lena so willing to be carried off by a stranger ? 
Does Lena's father feel any shame for his conduct? Does the story end 
as you expected? Does it seem impossible? How would you feel if 
you happened to be a member of the jury to try those robbers? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

What fairy tales particularly had Lena been reading? Tell one, 
making it as interesting as possible. Can you recall any fairy tales 



214 O. HENRY 

that ended differently from what you expected? An unexpected end- 
ing is one of the characteristics of O. Henry's stories. Select an incident 
for a climax and try to end the story in a manner that will completely 
surprise the reader. Be careful that your ending is not impossible. 
Tell your favorite fairy tale. Dramatize it as suggested on page io6 in 
a simple form for children. 

The Story of the Finding of Lena (by one of the robbers). 

The Hold-up (as told by Fritz). How I Help at Home. 

Some Child Labor Laws in my State. The Best Way to Wash Dishes. 

The Advantages of a Lively Im- Rural Delivery. 

agination. In the Days of the Stagecoach. 

Some Disadvantages of a Lively Im- Autobiography of a Letter. 

agination. The Parcel Post. * 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Gifts of the Magi (in The Four Million). O. Henry. 

The Cop and the Anthem (in The Four Million). O. Henry. 

Thimble, Thimble (in Options). O. Henry. 

The Lady or the Tiger. Frank R. Stockton. 

Marjory Daw. Thomas B. Aldrick. 

Little Citizens. Myra Kelly. 

Little Aliens. Myra Kelly. 

Emmy Lou. George Madden Martin. 

Tillie, A Mennonite Maid. H. R. Martin. 

Anne of Avonlea. L. M. Montgomery. 

Anne of Green Gables. L. M. Montgomery. 

A Christmas Mystery. W. J. Locke. 

Van Bibber and the Sivan Boats. R. H. Davis. 

Van Bibber's Burglar. R. H. Davis. 

In Grimm's Fairy Tales: Cinderella, Beauty and the Beast, Snowdrop, 
Tom Thumb, The Seven Ravens, Rumpelstiltskin, The Youth Who Could 
Not Shudder, Hansel and Gretel. 



THE OLD HUSBAND AND THE YOUNG WIFE i 

Richard Brinsley Sheridan 

Richard Brinsley Sheridan (1751-1816) was born in Dublin and edu- 
cated at the famous English school of Harrow. He was successful both 
as a dramatist and as a statesman. His two plays, The Rivals (1775) 
and The School for Scandal (1777), are noted for their realistic portrayal 
of eighteenth- century life and customs. He died in 1816 and was buried 
in Westminster Abbey. 

From 1642, when the Puritans closed the theaters, until 1890, only 
three plays were written which are much read or acted to-day. The 
three are these two by Sheridan, and one by Oliver Goldsmith, She 
Stoops to Conquer (1773). See also: 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 210, 262-264, 337. 

Rae's Life of Richard Brinsley Sheridan. 

Sichel's Sheridan. 

Sir Peter Teazle. But here comes my helpmate ! She ap- 
pears in great good humor. How happy I should be if I 
could tease her into loving me, though but a little ! 

Enter Lady Teazle. 

Lady Teazle. Lud! Sir Peter, I hope you haven't been 
quarreling with Maria? It is not using me well to be ill 
humored when I am not by. 

Sir Peter. Ah, Lady Teazle, you might have the power to 
make me good humored at all times. 

Lady Teazle. I am sure I wish I had ; for I want you to 
be in a charming sweet temper at this moment. Do be good 
hum.ored now, and let me have two hundred pounds, will you ? 

1 From The School for Scandal. 
215 



2i6 RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN 

Sir Peter. Two hundred pounds ; what, a'n't I to be in a 
good humor without paying for it ! But speak to me thus, 
and i' faith there's nothing I could refuse you. You shall 
have it ; but seal me a bond for the repayment. 

Lady Teazle. O, no — there — my note of hand will do as 
well. [Offering her hand.] 

Sir Peter. And you shall no longer reproach me with not 
giving you an independent settlement. I mean shortly to 
surprise you: but shall we always live thus, hey? 

Lady Teazle. If you please. I'm sure I don't care how 
soon we leave off quarreling, provided you'll own you were 
tired first. 

Sir Peter. Well — then let our future contest be, who shall 
be most obliging. 

Lady Teazle. I assure you, Sir Peter, good nature becomes 
you. You look now as you did before we were married, when 
you used to walk with me under the elms, and tell me stories 
of what a gallant you were in your youth, and chuck me 
under the chin, you would ; and ask me if I thought I could 
love an old fellow, who would deny me nothing — didn't 
you? 

Sir Peter. Yes, yes, and you were as kind and atten- 
tive 

Lady Teazle. Ay, so I was, and would always take your 
part, when my acquaintance used to abuse you, and turn 
you into ridicule. 

Sir Peter. Indeed ! 

Lady Teazle. Ay, and when my cousin Sophy has called 
you a stiff, peevish old bachelor, and laughed at me for 
thinking of marrying one who might be my father, I have 
always defended you, and said, I didn't think you so ugly 
by any means. 

Sir Peter. Thank you. And you prophesied right ; and 
we shall now be the happiest couple • 



THE OLD HUSBAND AND THE YOUNG WIFE 217 



Lady Teazle. And never differ again? 

Sir Peter. No, never ! — though at the same time, indeed, 
my dear Lady Teazle, you must watch your temper very 
seriously; for in all our 
little quarrels, my dear, if 
you recollect, my love, 
you always began first. 

Lady Teazle. I beg your 
pardon, my dear Sir Peter ; 
indeed, you always gave 
the provocation. 

Sir Peter. Now see, my 
angel ! take care — con- 
tradicting isn't the way 
to keep friends. 

Lady Teazle. Then don't 
you begin it, my love ! 

Sir Peter. There, now ! 
you — you are going on. 
You don't perceive, my love, that you are just doing the 
very thing which you know always makes me angry. 

Lady Teazle. Nay, you know if you will be angry without 
any reason, my dear 

Sir Peter. There ! now you want to quarrel again. 

Lady Teazle. No, I'm sure I don't ; but, if you will be so 
peevish 

Sir Peter. There now ! who begins first ? 

Lady Teazle. Why, you, to be sure. I said nothing — but 
there's no bearing your temper. 

^^V Peter. No, no, madam ; the fault's in your own temper. 

Lady Teazle. Ay, you are just what my cousin Sophy said 
you would be. 

Sir Peter. Your cousin Sophy is a forward, impertinent 
gypsy. 




2i8 RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN 

Lady Teazle. You are a great bear, I'm sure, to abuse my 
relations. 

^^V Peter. Now may all the plagues of marriage be doubled 
on me, if ever I try to be friends with you any more ! 

Lady Teazle. So much the better. 

^^V Peter. No, no, madam : 'tis evident you never cared a 
pin for me, and I was a madman to marry you — a pert, 
rural coquette, that had refused half the honest squires in 
the neighborhood. 

Lady Teazle. And I am sure I was a fool to marry you — 
an old dangling bachelor, who was single at fifty, only because 
he never could meet with any one who would have him. 

Sir Peter. Ay, ay, madam ; but you were pleased enough 
to listen to me : you never had such an offer before. 

Lady Teazle. No ! didn't I refuse Sir Tivy Terrier, who 
everybody said would have been a better match? for his 
estate is just as good as yours, and he has broke his neck 
since we have been married. 

Sir Peter. I have done with you, madam. You are an 
unfeeling, ungrateful — but there's an end of everything. I 
believe you capable of everything, that is bad. 

Lady Teazle. Take care, Sir Peter! you had better not 
insinuate any such thing! I'll not be suspected without 
cause, I promise you. 

Sir Peter. Very well, madam! very well! A separate 
maintenance as soon as you please. Yes, madam, or a di- 
vorce ! I'll make an example of myself for the benefit of all 
old bachelors. Let us separate, madam. 

Lady Teazle. Agreed! agreed! And now, my dear Sir 
Peter, we are of a mind once more ; we may be the happiest 
couple, and never differ again, you know ; ha ! ha ! ha ! 
Well, you are going to be in a passion, I see, and I shall only 
interrupt you — so, bye, bye ! [Exit] 

Sir Peter. Plagues and tortures ! can't I make her angry 



THE OLD HUSBAND AND THE YOUNG WIFE 219 

either ! O, I am the most miserable fellow ! But I'll not 
bear her presuming to keep her temper : no ! she may break 
my heart, but she sha'n't keep her temper. [Exit.] 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

quarreling interrupt maintenance 

reproach prophesy benefit 

independent impertinent prophesied 

recollect coquette suspect 

This humorous scene between a doting old man and his spoiled young 
wife must be read aloud to be enjoyed fully. Note how Lady Teazle 
alternately quarrels with her husband and wheedles him. Each one 
shows his character unconsciously by what he says. One of the means 
by which we learn to understand the characters of people around us is 
by listening to what they say. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Write a conversation that would spring naturally from one of the 
following situations. For arrangement, turn to page 106. Where the 
speaker would grow very much interested or excited, indicate in paren- 
thesis just what he should do, and the tone he should employ. 

A brother wants to take his sister to a baseball game. She prefers 
to read. 

You wish to attend one school, your chum another. 

Two boys discu^ a friend who refuses to play on the football team. 

Mary urges a friend to subscribe for the school paper. 

A girl graduate desires to "put up" her hair on the night of the 
commencement. Her mother objects. 

Two girls plan a picnic. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Sleeping Car. W. D. Howells. 
The Elevator. W. D. Howells. 
The Little Men Play. E. L. Gould. 
The Little Women Play. E. L. Gould. 



2 20 RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN 

Dramatic Reader, Book V. Augusta Stevenson, 
Patriotic Plays and Pageants. Constance Mackay. 
Short Plays from Dickens. H. B. Browne. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Selections from The Piper, Josephine P. Peabody ; Ulysses, Stephen 
Phillips ; The Rivals, Richard Brinsley Sheridan ; She Stoops to Conquer, 
Oliver Goldsmith. 



THE STORM AT SEA i 

William Shakespeare 

William Shakespeare (1564-1616) was born in the little town of 
Stratford-on-Avon, England. Little is known of his life, but people 
of every civilized nation on the globe read his plays and marvel at his 
genius. No more beautiful tribute has been paid him than that which 
some unknown admirer wrote with a pencil upon the mantelpiece in the 
room where Shakespeare was born. It is : 

"In this poor place his spirit first drew breath 
Who saved the English tongue from fear of death." 

See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 174-198, 218. 

Lee's A Life of William Shakespeare. 

Raleigh's Shakespeare. 

MacCracken, Pierce, and Durham's An Introduction to Shakespeare. 

Dowden's Shakespeare, His Mind and Art. 

Brandes's William Shakespeare. 

Cast of Characters 

r 
Alonso, King of Naples. 
Sebastian, his brother. 
Prospero, the right Duke of Milan. 
Antonio, his brother. 
Gonzalo, an old counselor of Naples. 
Miranda, Prospero's daughter. 
Ferdinand, son of the King of Naples. 
Ariel, an airy spirit. 

^ From The Tempest. 
221 



222 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 

ACT I. 

Scene i: On a Ship at Sea. A tempestuous noise of thunder 

and lightning heard. 

Enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain. 

Master. Boatswain ! 
Boatswain. Here, master : what cheer ? 
Master. Good, speak to the mariners ; fall to't yarely,^ or 
we run ourselves aground ; bestir, bestir ! [Exit. 

Enter Mariners. 

Boatswain. Heigh, my hearts ; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts ; 
yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the master's 
whistle. — Blow till thou burst thy wind ^ if room enough ! 

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, 

and others. 

Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? 
Play the men. 

Boatswain. I pray now, keep below. 

Ant. Where is the master, boatswain? 

Boatswain. Do you not hear him? You mar our labor; 
keep your cabins : you do assist the storm. 

Gon. Nay, good, be patient. 

Boatswain. When the sea is. Hence ! What care these 
roarers ^ for the name of king ? To cabin : silence : trouble 
us not. 

Gon. Good ; yet remember whom thou hast aboard. 

Boatswain. None that I more love than myself. You are 
a counselor ; if you can command these elements to silence, 

1 Briskly. 

2 In Shakespeare's time the wind was often represented in pictures by the figure of a 
man blowing with his cheeks puffed. 

3 Waves. 



THE STORM AT SEA 223 

and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope 
more ; use your authority : if you cannot, give thanks you 
have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for 
the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. — Cheerly, good 
hearts. — Out of our way, I say. [Exit. 

Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow : methinks he 
hath no drowning mark upon him ; his complexion is perfect 
gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging ! make the 
rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little ad- 
vantage ! If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. 



Enter Mariners, wet. 

Manners. All lost ! to prayers, to prayers ! all lost ! 

[Exeunt. 

Boatswain. What, must our mouths be cold? 

Gon. The king and prince at prayers ! let us assist them, 
For our case is as theirs. 

Seb. I'm out of patience. 

Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. — 
This wide-chapped rascal ; — Would thou mightst lie 

drowning 
The washing of ten tides ! 

Gon. r He'll be hanged yet, 

Though every drop of water swear against it. 
And gape at widest to glut ^ him. 

[A confused noise within. — " Mercy on us ! we split, we split ! " 
— " Farewell, my wife and children ! " " Farewell, brother ! " 
— "We split, we split, we split !"] 

Ant. Let's all sink with the king. 

Seb. Let's take leave of him. 

Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an 

^ To swallow up. 



2 24 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 

acre of barren ground ; long heath, brown furze, any thing : 
The wills above be done ! but I would fain die a dry death. 



Scene 2 : The Island; before the Cell of Prospero. 

Efiter Prospero and Miranda. 

Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, you have 
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them : 
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, 
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's ^ cheek, 
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered 
With those that I saw suffer ! a brave vessel. 
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her, 
Dashed all to pieces. O, the cry did knock 
Against my very heart ! Poor souls ! they perished. 
Had I been any god of power, I would 
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or ere 
It should the good ship so have swallowed, and 
The fraughting souls within her. 

Pros. Be collected ; 

No more amazement : ^ tell your piteous heart, 
There's no harm done. 

Mir. O, woe the day ! 

Pros. No harm. 

I have done nothing but in care of thee. 
Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who 
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing 
Of whence I am ; nor that I am more better 
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, 
And thy no greater father. 

Mir. More to know 

Did never meddle with my thoughts. 

1 Sky. 2 Distress of mind. 



THE STORM AT SEA 225 

Pros. 'Tis time 

I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, 
And pluck my magic garment from me. — So ; 

[Lays down his mantle. 
Lie there, my art. — Wipe thou thine eyes ; have comfort. 
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touched 
The very virtue of compassion in thee, 
I have with such provision in mine art 
So safely ordered, that there is no soul — 
No, not so much perdition as an hair, 
Betid to any creature in the vessel 

Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down ; 
For thou must now know further. 

Mir. You have often 

Begun to tell me what I am, but stopped 
And left me to a bootless inquisition ; 
Concluding, "Stay, not yet." — 

Pros. The hour's now come ; 

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear ; 
Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember 
A time before we came unto this cell ? 
I do not think thou canst ; for then thou wast not 
Out three years old. 

Mir. Certainly, sir, I can. 

Pros. By what? by any other house, or person? 
Of any thing the image tell me that 
Hath kept with thy remembrance. 

Mir. 'Tis far off, 

And rather like a dream than an assurance 
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not 
Four or five women once that tended me ? 

Pros. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it, 
That this lives in thy mind ? What seest thou else 
In the dark backward and abysm of time ? 

H. & B. READINGS — 1 5 



226 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 

If thou remember'st aught ere thou earnest here, 
How thou earnest here, thou mayst. 

Mir. But that I do not. 

Pros. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, 
Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and 
A prince of power. 



Enter Ariel. 

Art. All hail, great master ! grave sir, hail ! I come 
To answer thy best pleasure ; be't to fly. 
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride 
On the curled clouds ; to thy strong bidding task 
Ariel and all his quaUty. 

Pros. Hast thou, spirit, 

Performed to point the tempest that I bade thee? 

jlri. To every article. 

I boarded the king's ship ; now on the beak. 
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, 
I flamed amazement : sometimes, I'ld divide, 
And burn in many places ; on the topmast, 
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly. 
Then meet and join : Jove's lightnings, the precursors 
O' the dreadful thunder- claps, more momentary 
And sight-outrunning were not : the fire and cracks 
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune ^ 
Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, 
Yea, his dread trident shake. 

Pros. My brave spirit ! 

Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil ^ 
Would not infect his reason ? 

1 The god of the sea, always represented with a trident, i.e. a three-pronged scepter. 

2 Disturbance. 



THE STORM AT SEA 227 

Art. Not a soul 

But felt a fever of the mad, and played 
Some tricks of desperation. All, but mariners, 
Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, 
Then all a-fire with me ; the king's son, Ferdinand, 
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair), 
Was the first man that leaped; cried, "Hell is empty, 
And all the devils are here ! " 

Pros. Why, that's my spirit ! 

But was not this nigh shore ? 

Art. Close by, my master. 

Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe ? 

Art. Not a hair .perished ; 

On their sustaining garments not a blemish, 
But fresher than before : and, as thou badest me, 
In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle. 
The king's son have I landed by himself ; 
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs. 
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting, 
His arms in this sad knot. 

Pros. Of the king's ship, 

The mariners, say, how thou hast disposed, 
And all the rest o' the fleet ? 

Art. Safely in harbor 

Is the king's ship(| in the deep nook, where once 
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew 
From the still-vext Bermoothes,^ there she's hid : 
The mariners all under hatches stowed ; 
Who, with a charm joined to their suffered labor, 
I have left asleep : and for the rest o' the fleet, 
Which I dispersed, they all have met again, 
And are upon the Mediterranean flote, 
Bound sadly home for Naples, 

1 Bermudas. 



228 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wrecked, 
And his great person perish. 

Pros. Ariel, thy charge 

Exactly is performed ; but there's more work : 
What is the time o' the day? 

Ari. Past the mid season. 

Pros. At least two glasses.^ The time 'twixt six and 
now 
Must by us both be spent most preciously. 

Ari. Is there more toil ? Since thou dost give me pains, 
Let me remember thee what thou hast promised. 
Which is not yet performed me. 

Pros. How now ? moody ? 

What is'c thou canst demand? 

Ari. My liberty. 

Pros. Before the time be out? No more ! 

Ari. I prithee, 

Remember I have done thee worthy service ; 
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served 
Without or grudge or grumblings : thou didst promise 
To bate me a full year. 

Pros. Dost thou forget 

From what a torment I did free thee ? 

Ari. No. 

Pros. Thou dost ; and think'st 
It much to tread the ooze of the salt deep, 
To run upon the sharp wind of the north. 
To do me business in the veins o' the earth. 
When it is baked with frost. 

Ari. I do not, sir. 

Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing ! Hast thou forgot 
The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age and envy, 
Was grown into a hoop ? hast thou forgot her ? 

1 Two runnings of the hourglass. 



THE STORM AT SEA 229 

Art. No, sir. 

Pros. Thou, my slave, 

As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant : 
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate 
To act her earthy and abhorred commands, 
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, 
By help of her more potent ministers, 
And in her most unmitigable rage, 
Into a cloven pine ; within which rift 
Imprisoned, thou did'st painfully remain 
A dozen years ; within which space she died, 
And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans, 
As fast as mill wheels strike. Then was this island 
(Save for the son that she did litter here, 
A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honored with 
A human shape. 

Art. Yes ; Caliban, her son. 

Pros. Dull thing, I say so ; he, that Caliban, 
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st 
What torment I did find thee in : thy groans 
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts 
Of ever-angry bears ; it was a torment 
To lay upon the damned, which Sycorax 
Could not again undo ; it was mine art, 
When I arrived, and heard thee, that made gape 
The pine, and let thee out. 

Ari. I thank thee, master. 

Pros. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak. 
And peg thee in his knotty entrails till 
Thou hast howled away twelve winters. 

Ari. Pardon, master : 

I will be correspondent to command. 
And do my spiriting gently. 



\ 



230 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE 

Pros. Do so ; and after two days 

I will discharge thee. 

STUDY HINTS 

Notice the active scene on board the ship. Why does the boatswain 
answer the ihen so ci^rtly? At what point does he become most exas- 
perated with Gonzalo? Can you blame him? Does Gonzalo realize the 
peril as fully as the boatswain? How is Miranda affected by the storm? 
What had Prosper© to do with it? How does Prospero comfort her? 
What proof have you that Ariel is a spirit, not a mortal ? Look for this 
also in his exquisite song (p. 182). Read carefully his description of 
the effect he had upon the company on the ship. What comfort does 
he bring to Miranda? What does he owe to Prospero? What humor 
can you find in this selection? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

As You Like It. William Shakespeare. 

The Merchant of Venice. William Shakespeare. 

Much Ado About Nothing. William Shakespeare. 

A Midsummer Night's Dream. William Shakespeare. 

Master Skylark. John Bennett. 

Judith Shakespeare. William Black. 

Shakespeare the Boy. William Rolfe. 

In the Days of Elizabeth. Eva March Tappan. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Selections from Ulysses and Nero, Stephen Phillips. 



PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTHFUL JAMES ^ 

Bret Harte 

Francis Bret Harte (i 839-1902) was born in Albany, New York, but 
spent the early part of his life in California. As in the case of O. Henry, 
he lived in many places, and had many experiences which he has per- 
petuated in excellent short stories. His stories of pioneer life in Cali- 
fornia are inimitable. The Heathen Chinee, which is the popular title 
for the poem given below, made him famous. The swing of the verse is 
pleasing, and the humor infectious. Truthful James was a real char- 
acter living in California and highly respected in his own community. 
See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 345-349, 365. 
H. C. Merwin's The Life of Bret Harte. 
Boynton's Bret Harte. 




Which I wish to remark, 
And my language is plain, 

That for ways that are dark 
And for tricks that are vain, 

The heathen Chinee is peculiar, 
Which the same I would rise to 
explain. 

Ah Sin was his name ; 

And I shall not deny, 
In regard to the same, 

What that name might imply ; 

^ From Poetical Works. Used by permission of, and by arrangement with, Houghton 
Mifflin Company, authorized publishers of Bret Harte 's works. 

231 



232 



BRET HARTE 

But his smile it was pensive and childlike, 
As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye. 

It was August the third, 

And quite soft was the skies ; 
Which it might be inferred 

That Ah Sin was likewise ; 
Yet he played it that day upon William 

And me in a way I despise. 

Which we had a small game. 

And Ah Sin took a hand. 
It was euchre. The same 

He did not understand ; 
But he smiled as he sat by the table, 

With the smile that was childHke and bland. 

Yet the cards they were stocked 

In a way that I grieve, 
And my feelings were shocked 

At the state of Nye's sleeve, 
Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, 

And the same with intent to deceive. 

But the hands that were played 

By that heathen Chinee, 
And the points that he made, 

Were quite frightful to see, — 
Till at last he put down a right bower, 

Which the same Nye had dealt unto me. 

Then I looked up at Nye, 

And he gazed upon me ; 
And he rose with a sigh, 

And said, "Can this be? 
We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor," — 

And he went for that heathen Chinee. 



PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTPIFUL JAMES 233 

In the scene that ensued 

I did not take a hand, 
But the floor it was strewed 

Like the leaves on the strand 
With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding, 

In the game "he did not understand." 

In his sleeves, which were long, 

He had twenty-four jacks, — 
Which was coming it strong. 

Yet I state but the facts ; 
And we found on his nails, which were taper, 

What is frequent in tapers, — that's wax. 

Which is why I remark. 

And my language is plain, 
That for ways that are dark 

And for tricks that are vain. 
The heathen Chinee is peculiar, — 

Which the same I am free to maintain. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Chiquita. Bret Harte. 

Tennessee's Partner. Bret Harte. 

How Santa Clans came to Simpson's Bar. Bret Harte. 

The Oregon Trail. Francis Parkman. 

Crossing the Plains. Joaquin Miller. 

The Mountains of California. John Muir. 

Stories of the Great West. Theodore Roosevelt. 

Roughing It. S. L. Clemens. 

Our Little Chinese Cousin. Isaac Headland. 

Boy Life on the Prairie. Hamlin Garland. 

The Led-Horse Claim. Mary Hallock Foote. 

Glimpses of California. Helen Hunt Jackson. 

Romantic California. E, C. Peixotto. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 
Grizzly (verse). Bret Harte. 



THE AMBITIOUS GUEST i 
Nathaniel Hawthorne 

[For biographical sketch see page 171.] 

One September night a family had gathered round their 
hearth, and piled it high with the driftwood of mountain 
streams, the dry cones of the pine, and the splintered ruins 
of great trees that had come crashing down the precipice. 
Up the chimney roared the fire, and brightened the room 
with its broad blaze. The faces of the father and mother 
had a sober gladness; the children laughed; the eldest 
daughter was the image of Happiness at seventeen ; and the 
aged grandmother, who sat knitting in the warmest place, 
was the image of Happiness grown old. They had found 
the "herb, heart's-ease," in the bleakest spot of all New 
England. This family were situated in the Notch of the 
White Hills, where the wind was sharp throughout the year, 
and pitilessly cold in the winter, — giving their cottage all 
its fresh inclemency before it descended on the valley of the 
Saco. They dwelt in a cold spot and a dangerous one ; for 
a mountain towered above their heads, so steep, that the 
stones would often rumble down its sides and startle them at 
midnight. 

The daughter had just uttered some simple jest that filled 
them all with mirth, when the wind came through the 
Notch and seemed to pause before their cottage — rattling 

1 Used by permission of, and by arrangement with, Houghton Mifflin Company, 
authorized publishers of Hawthorne's works. 

234 



THE AMBITIOUS GUEST 235 

the door, with a sound of wailing and lamentation, before it 
passed into the valley. For a moment it saddened them, 
though there was nothing unusual in the tones. But the 
family were glad again when they perceived that the latch 
was lifted by some traveler, whose footsteps had been un- 
heard amid the dreary blast which heralded his approach, 
and wailed as he was entering, and went moaning away 
from the door. 

Though they dwelt in such a solitude, these people held 
daily converse with the world. The romantic pass of the 
Notch is a great artery, through which the lifeblood of 
internal commerce is continually throbbing between Maine, 
on one side, and the Green Mountains and the shores of the 
St. Lawrence, on the other. The stagecoach always drew 
up before the door of the cottage. The wayfarer, with no 
companion but his staff, paused here to exchange a word, 
that the sense of loneliness might not utterly overcome him 
ere he could pass through the cleft of the mountain, or reach 
the first house in the valley. And here the teamster, on his 
way to Portland market, would put up for the night ; and, 
if a bachelor, might sit an hour beyond the usual bedtime, 
and steal a kiss from the mountain maid at parting. It was 
one of those primitive taverns where the traveler pays only 
for food and lodging, but meets with a homely kindness 
beyond all price. When the footsteps were heard, therefore, 
between the outer door and the inner one, the whole family 
rose up, grandmother, children, and all, as if about to wel- 
come some one who belonged to them, and whose fate was 
linked with theirs. 

The door was opened by a young man. His face at first 
w^ore the melancholy expression, almost despondency, of one 
who travels a wild and bleak road, at nightfall and alone, 
but soon brightened up when he saw the kindly warmth of 
his reception. He felt his heart spring forward to meet 



236 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

them all, from the old woman, who wiped a chair with her 
apron, to the little child that held out its arms to him. One 
glance and smile placed the stranger on a footing of innocent 
familiarity with the eldest daughter. 

"Ah, this fire is the right thing!" cried he; "especially 
when there is such a pleasant circle round it. I am quite 
benumbed; for the Notch is just like the pipe of a great 
pair of bellows ; it has blown a terrible blast in my face all 
the way from Bartlett." 

"Then you are going toward Vermont?" said the master 
of the house, as he helped to take a light knapsack off the 
young man's shoulders. 

"Yes; to Burlington, and far enough beyond," replied 
he. "I meant to have been at Ethan Crawford's to-night; 
but a pedestrian lingers along such a road as this. It is no 
matter ; for, when I saw this good fire, and all your cheerful 
faces, I felt as if you had kindled it on purpose for me, and 
were waiting my arrival. So I shall sit down among you, 
and make myself at home." 

The frank-hearted stranger had just drawn his chair to the 
fire when something like a heavy footstep was heard without, 
rushing down the steep side of the mountain, as with long 
and rapid strides, and taking such a leap in passing the 
cottage as to strike the opposite precipice. The family held 
their breath, because they knew the sound, and their guest 
held his by instinct. 

"The old mountain has thrown a stone at us, for fear we 
should forget him," said the landlord, recovering himself. 
"He sometimes nods his head and threatens to come down; 
but we are old neighbors, and agree together pretty well on 
the whole. Besides we have a sure place of refuge hard by 
if he should be coming in good earnest." 

Let us now suppose the stranger to have finished his 
supper of bear's meat ; and, by his natural felicity of manner. 



THE AMBITIOUS GUEST 237 

to have placed himself on a footing of kindness with the 
whole family, so that they talked as freely together as if he 
belonged to their mountain brood. He was of a proud, yet 
gentle spirit — haughty and reserved among the rich and 
great ; but ever ready to stoop his head to the lowly cottage 
door, and be like a brother or a son at the poor man's fireside. 
In the household of the Notch he found warmth and sim- 
plicity of feeling, the pervading intelligence of New England, 
and a poetry of native growth, which they had gathered 
when they little thought of it from the mountain peaks and 
chasms, and at the very threshold of their romantic and 
dangerous abode. He had traveled far and alone; his 
whole life, indeed, had been a solitary path; for, with the 
lofty caution of his nature, he had kept himself apart from 
those who might otherwise have been his companions. The 
family, too, though so kind and hospitable, had that con- 
sciousness of unity among themselves, and separation from 
the world at large, which in every domestic circle, should 
still keep a holy place where no stranger may intrude. But 
this evening a prophetic sympathy impelled the refined and 
educated youth to pour out his heart before the simple 
mountaineers, and constrained them to answer him with 
the same free confidence. And thus it should have been. 
Is not the kindred of a common fate a closer tie than that of 
birth? 

The secret of the young man's character was a high and 
abstracted ambition. He could have borne to live an undis- 
tinguished life, but not to be forgotten in the grave. Yearn- 
ing desire had been transformed to hope : and hope, long 
cherished, had become like certainty, that, obscurely as he 
journeyed now, a glory was to beam on all his pathway, — 
though not, perhaps, while he was treading it. But when 
posterity should gaze back into the gloom of what was now 
the present, they would trace the brightness of his footsteps, 



238 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

brightening as meaner glories faded, and confess that a 
gifted one had passed from his cradle to his tomb with none 
to recognize him. 

"As yet," cried the stranger — his cheek glowing and his 
eye flashing with enthusiasm — "as yet, I have done nothing. 
Were I to vanish from the earth to-morrow, none would 
know so much of me as you ; that a nameless youth came 
up at nightfall from the valley of Saco, and opened his heart 
to you in the evening, and passed through the Notch by sun- 
rise, and was seen no more. Not a soul would ask, 'Who 
was he? Whither did the wanderer go?' But I cannot 
die till I have achieved my destiny. Then, let death come ! 
I shall have built my monument ! " 

There was a continual flow of natural emotion, gushing 
forth amid abstracted reverie, which enabled the family 
to understand this young man's sentiments, though so 
foreign from their own. With quick sensibility of the 
ludicrous, he blushed at the ardor into which he had been 
betrayed. 

"You laugh at me," said he, taking the eldest daughter's 
hand, and laughing himself. "You think my ambition as 
nonsensical as if I were to freeze myself to death on the top 
of Mount Washington, only that people might spy at me 
from the country round about. And, truly, that would be a 
noble pedestal for a man's statue!" 

"It is better to sit here by this fire," answered the girl, 
blushing, "and be comfortable and contented, though nobody 
thinks about us." 

"I suppose," said her father, after a fit of musing, "there 
is something natural in what the young man says; and if 
my mind had been turned that way, I might have felt just 
the same. It is strange, wife, how his talk has set my head 
running on things that are pretty certain never to come to 
pass." 



THE AMBITIOUS GUEST 239 

"Perhaps they may," observed the wife. ''Is the man 
thinking what he will do when he is a widower?" 

"No, no!" cried he, repelling the idea with reproachful 
kindness. "When I think of your death, Esther, I think of 
mine, too. But I was wishing we had a good farm in Bartlett, 
or Bethlehem, or Littleton, or some other township round 
the White Mountains; but not where they could tumble 
on our heads. I should want to stand well with my neigh- 
bors and be called Squire, and sent to General Court for a 
term or two ; for a plain, honest man may do as much good 
there as a lawyer. And when I should be grown quite an old 
man, and you an old woman, so as not to be long apart, I 
might die happy enough in my bed, and leave you all crying 
around me. A slate gravestone would suit me as well as a 
marble one — with just my name and age, and a verse of a 
hymn, and something to let people know that I lived an 
honest man and died a Christian." 

"There now!" exclaimed the stranger ; "it is our nature 
to desire a monument, be it slate or marble, or a pillar of 
granite, or a glorious memory in the universal heart of man." 

"We're in a strange way, to-night," said the wife, with 
tears in her eyes. " They say it's a sign of something, when 
folks' minds go a- wandering so. Hark to the children !" 

They listened accordingly. The younger children had 
been put to bed in another room, but with an open door 
between, so that they could be heard talking busily among 
themselves. One and all seemed to have caught the infec- 
tion from the fireside circle, and were outvying each other 
in wild wishes, and childish projects of what they would do 
when they came to be men and women. At length a little 
boy, instead of addressing his brothers and sisters, called 
out to his mother. 

"I'll tell you what I wish, mother," cried he. "I want 
you and father and grandma'm, and all of us, and the stranger 



240 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

too, to start right away, and go and take a drink out of the 
basin of the Flume ! " 

Nobody could help laughing at the child's notion of leav- 
ing a warm bed, and dragging them from a cheerful fire, to 
visit the basin of the Flume, — a brook which tumbles over 
the precipice, deep within the Notch. The boy had hardly 
spoken when a wagon rattled along the road, and stopped a 
moment before the door. It appeared to contain two or 
three men who were cheering their hearts with the rough 
chorus of a song, which resounded in broken notes between 
the cliffs, while the singers hesitated whether to continue their 
journey or put up here for the night." 

"Father," said the girl, "they are calling you by name." 

But the good man doubted whether they had really called 
him, and was unwilling to show himself too solicitous of 
gain by inviting people to patronize his house. He therefore 
did not hurry to the door ; and the lash being soon applied, 
the travelers plunged into the Notch, still singing and laugh- 
ing, though their music and mirth came back drearily from 
the heart of the mountain. 

"There, mother!" cried the boy, again. "They'd have 
given us a ride to the Flume." 

Again they laughed at the child's pertinacious fancy for a 
night ramble. But it happened that a light cloud passed 
over the daughter's spirit ; she looked gravely into the fire, 
and drew a breath that was almost a sigh. It forced its 
way, in spite of a little struggle to repress it. Then starting 
and blushing, she looked quickly round the circle, as if they 
had caught a glimpse into her bosom. The stranger asked 
what she had been thinking of. 

"Nothing," answered she, with a downcast smile. "Only 
I felt lonesome just then." 

"Oh, I have always had a gift of feeling what is in other 
people's hearts," said he, half seriously. "Shall I tell the 



THE AMBITIOUS GUEST 241 

secrets of yours? For I know what to think when a young 
girl shivers by a warm hearth, and complains of lonesomeness 
at her mother's side. Shall I put these feelings into words?" 

"They would not be a girl's feelings any longer if they 
could be put into words," replied the mountain nymph, 
laughing, but avoiding his eye. 

All this was said apart. Perhaps a germ of love was 
springing in their hearts, so pure that it might blossom in 
Paradise, since it could not be matured on earth ; for women 
worship such gentle dignity as his ; and the proud, contem- 
plative, yet kindly soul is oftenest captivated by simplicity 
like hers. But while they spoke softly, and he was watch- 
ing the happy sadness, the lightsome shadows, the shy yearn- 
ings of a maiden's nature, the wind through the Notch took 
a deeper and drearier sound. It seemed, as the fanciful 
stranger said, like the choral strain of the spirits of the blast, 
who in old Indian times had their dwelling among these 
mountains, and made their heights and recesses a sacred 
region. There was a wail along the road, as if a funeral were 
passing. To chase away the gloom, the family threw pine 
branches on their fire, till the dry leaves crackled and the 
flame arose, discovering once again a scene of peace and 
humble happiness. The light hovered about them fondly, 
and caressed them all. There were the little faces of the 
children, peeping from their bed apart, and here the father's 
frame of strength, the mother's subdued and careful mien, 
the high-browed youth, the budding girl, and the good old 
grandma, still knitting in the warmest place. The aged 
woman looked up from her task, and, with fingers ever busy, 
was the next to speak. 

"Old folks have their notions," said she, "as well as 
young ones. You've been wishing and planning ; and letting 
your heads run on one thing and another, till you've set my 
mind a wandering too. Now what should an old woman 

H. & B. READINGS — 1 6 

\. 



242 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

wish for, when she can go but a step or two before she comes 
to her grave? Children, it will haunt me night and day 
till I tell you." 

''What is it, mother?" cried the husband and wife at 
once. 

Then the old woman, with an air of mystery which drew 
the circle closer round the fire, informed them that she had 
provided her grave-clothes some years before — a nice linen 
shroud, a cap with a muslin ruff, and everything of a finer 
sort than she had worn since her wedding day. But this 
evening an old superstition had strangely recurred to her. 
It used to be said, in her younger days, that if anything were 
amiss with a corpse, if only the ruff were not smooth, or the 
cap did not set right, the corpse in the coflSn and beneath 
the clods would strive to put up its cold hands and arrange 
it. The bare thought made her nervous. 

"Don't talk so, grandmother!" said the girl, shuddering. 

"Now," — continued the old woman, with singular 
earnestness, yet smiling strangely at her own folly, — "I 
want one of you, my children — when your mother is dressed 
and in the cofiin — I want one of you to hold a looking- 
glass over my face. Who knows but I may take a glimpse at 
myself, and see whether all's right?" 

"Old and young, we dream of graves and monuments," 
murmured the stranger youth. "I wonder how mariners 
feel when the ship is sinking, and they, unknown and undis- 
tinguished, are to be buried together in the ocean — that 
wide and nameless sepulcher?" 

For a moment, the old woman's ghastly conception so 
engrossed the minds of her hearers that a sound abroad in 
the night, rising like the roar of a blast, had grown broad, 
deep, and terrible, before the fated group were conscious of 
it. The house and all within it trembled ; the foundations 
of the earth seemed to be shaken, as if this awful sound 



THE AMBITIOUS GUEST 243 

were the peal of the last trump. Young and old exchanged 
one wild glance, and remained an instant, pale, affrighted, 
without utterance, or power to move. Then the same 
shriek burst simultaneously from all their lips. 

"The slide! The slide!" 

The simplest words must intimate, but not portray, the 
unutterable horror of the catastrophe. The victims rushed 
from their cottage, and sought refuge in what they deemed 
a safer spot — where, in contemplation of such an emer- 
gency, a sort of barrier had been reared. Alas ! they had 
quitted their security, and fied right into the pathway of 
destruction. Down came the whole side of the mountain, 
in a cataract of ruin. Just before it reached the house, the 
stream broke into two branches — shivered not a window 
there, but overwhelmed the whole vicinity, blocked up the 
road, and annihilated everything in its dreadful course. 
Long ere the thunder of the great slide had ceased to roar 
among the mountains, the mortal agony had been endured, 
and the victims were at peace. Their bodies were never 
found. 

The next morning, the light smoke was seen stealing from 
the cottage chimney up the mountain side. Within, the 
fire was yet smoldering on the hearth, and the chairs in a 
circle round it, as if the inhabitants had but gone forth to 
view the devastation of the slide, and would shortly return, 
to thank heaven for their miraculous escape. All had left 
separate tokens, by which those who had known the family 
were made to shed a tear for each. Who has not heard their 
name? The story has been told far and wide, and wull for- 
ever be a legend of these mountains. Poets have sung their 
fate. 

There were circumstances which led some to suppose that 
a stranger had been received into the cottage on this awful 
night, and had shared the catastrophe of all its inmates. 



244 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

Others denied that there were sufficient grounds for such a 
conjecture. Woe for the high-souled youth, with his dream 
of earthly immortaUty ! His name and person utterly un- 
known; his history, his way of life, his plans, a mystery 
never to be solved, his death and his existence equally a 
doubt ! Whose was the agony of that death moment ? 

[This story is founded upon an actual occurrence as related in J. H. 
Spaulding's Historical Relics of the White Mountains. "Some time in 
June, before the great slide in August, 1826, there came a great storm, 
and the old veteran Abel Crawford, coming down the Notch, noticed 
the trees slipping down standing upright, and as he was passing Mr. 
Willey's he called and informed him of the wonderful fact. Immediately, 
in a less exposed place, Mr. Willey prepared a shelter to which to flee in 
case of immediate danger, and in the night of August 28 in that year he 
was, with his whole family, awakened by the thundering crash of the 
coming avalanche. Attempting to escape, that family, nine in number, 
rushed from the house and were overtaken and buried alive under a 
vast pile of rocks, earth, and water. By a remarkable coincidence the 
house remained uninjured, as the slide divided about four rods back 
of the house, against a high flat rock, and came down on either side 
with overwhelming power."! 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

coincidence arrival catastrophe 

perceive sit, sat, sat ludicrous 

homely inhabitant reproachful 

famiUarity instinct glimpse 

Does the family seem real to you? What does Hawthorne mean in 
the sentence, "They had found the herb, hearts'-ease, in the bleakest 
spot of New England"? How do the occupants of the cottage impress 
the stranger? What is the topic of their conversation around the fire? 
Tell in your own words the ambition of each person. What contrast do 
you find between the interior of the cottage and its setting? What hints 
are given the reader that there will be a catastrophe ? Does the appear- 
ance of the cottage afterwards add to your feeling of horror at their fate, 
or not? Is the ending as unexpected as that of The Chaparral Prince? 



THE AMBITIOUS GUEST 245 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Write for a newspaper in the town where they were known, an account 
of the fate of the family (their name was Willey) . As the public usually 
reads news hurriedly, put the most important item in the first sentence. 
Follow with details in the order of their importance, beginning with the 
most important. How does this method differ from the one you have 
been following? The newspaper account should answer very near the 
beginning these questions : Who ? When ? Where ? Why ? 

Write in a letter to a friend an account of this catastrophe, as if you 
had remained in the cottage. 

Imagine that you have had a lucky escape of some kind, and write a 
telegram to your mother, assuring her of your safety. Follow the tele- 
gram with a letter giving fuller details. 

Explain your idea of the term, "Home." 

Read Robert Burns's The Cotter's Saturday Night, and report to the 
class what is Burns's idea of "home.^' 

Think over an unexpectedly pleasant ending of an adventure that 
you have had and tell it to the class. Be careful not to hint too strongly 
that the ending will be pleasant. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Rappaccini's Daughter (Mosses from an Old Manse). Nathaniel 
Hawthorne. 

The White Old Maid (Twice-Told Tales). Nathaniel Hawthorne. 

The House of the Seven Gables. Nathaniel Hawthorne, 

The Cause of the Difficulty (in Tales of the Home Folks) . Joel Chandler 
Harris. 

Back Home. Irvin Cobb. ^ 

The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains. Charles Egbert Craddock. 

The Mystery of Witch Face Mountain. Charles Egbert Craddock. 

Rosy Balm; A Day Of (in The Country Road). Alice Brown. 

The Burial of the Guns. Thomas Nelson Page. 

The Remarkable Wreck of the Thomas Hyde (in A Chosen Few). Frank 
R. Stockton. 

Tales of New England. Sarah Orne Jewett. 

A Country Doctor. Sarah Orne Jewett. 

Country By-Ways. Sarah Orne Jewett. 



THE HUMBLEBEEi 
Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882) was born in Boston. He was de- 
scended from a long line of New England clergymen. As a boy, he was 
so poor that he and his brother attended school on alternate days be- 
cause they had only one coat between them. Despite his poverty, he 
managed to graduate from Harvard. He became a clergyman and 
preached for a time in Cotton Mather's church. His belief did not 
wholly accord with that of the church, so he gave up preaching, and 
spent the rest of his life in writing and lecturing. 

His Essays, such as the one on Self -Reliance, are his most popular 
works, but he also wrote some exquisite verse. His most enjoyable 
poetry has some phase of nature for its subject. This was his poetic 
creed : 

"In the deep heart of man a poet dwells 
Who all the day of life his summer story tells." 

See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 178-193, 283. 
Oliver Wendell Holmes's Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
Woodberry's Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
Garnett's Life of Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
Emerson's Journals. 

Burly dozing bumblebee ! 
Where thou art is clime for me. 
Let them sail for Porto Rique,^ 
Far-off heats through seas to seek, 
I will follow thee alone, 
Thou animated torrid zone ! 

* This poem is used by permission of, and arrangement with, Houghton Mifflin Com- 
pany, authorized publishers of Emerson's works. 
2 Porto Rico. 

246 



THE IIUMBLEBEE 247 

Zig-zag steerer, desert-cheerer, 
Let me chase thy waving lines, 
Keep me nearer, me thy hearer, 
Singing over shrubs and vines. 

Insect lover of the sun, 
Joy of thy dominion ! 
Sailor of the atmosphere. 
Swimmer through the waves of air, 
Voyager of light and noon, 
Epicurean of June,^ 
Wait I prithee, till I come 
Within earshot of thy hum, — 
All without is martyrdom. 

When the south wind, in May days, 
With a net of shining haze. 
Silvers the horizon wall, 
And, with softness touching all. 
Tints the human countenance 
With a color of romance, 
And, infusing subtle heats, 
Turns the sod to violets, 
Thou in sunny solitudes. 
Rover of th^ underwoods. 
The green silence dost displace, 
With thy mellow breezy bass. 

Hot midsummer's petted crone, 
Sweet to me thy drowsy tone, 
Telling of countless sunny hours, 
Long days, and solid banks of flowers, 

^ One who luxuriates in, thoroughly enjoys, June. 



248 RALPH WALDO EMERSON 

Of gulfs of sweetness without bound 
In Indian wildernesses found, 
Of Syrian peace, immortal leisure, 
Firmest cheer and bird-like pleasure. 

Aught unsavory or unclean, 
Hath my insect never seen. 
But violets and bilberry bells. 
Maple sap and daffodels. 
Grass with green flag half-mast high, 
Succory to match the sky, 
Columbine with horn of honey, 
Scented fern, and agrimony. 
Clover, catchfly, adder's-tongue. 
And brier-roses dwelt among ; 
All beside was unknown waste. 
All was picture as he passed. 

Wiser far than human seer. 
Yellow-breeched philosopher ! 
Seeing only what is fair. 
Sipping only what is sweet, 
Thou dost mock at fate and care. 
Leave the chaff and take the wheat. 
When the fierce northwestern blast 
Cools sea and land so far and fast. 
Thou already slumberest deep. 

STUDY HINTS 

How many different names does the poet give to the bee? Which 
do you think suits it best? Explain this allusion and its fitness," Epi- 
curean of June." What does the last line of the second stanza mean? 
What does it show? What does he emphasize in order to make May 
seem attractive ? Compare his treatment of May with Lowell's of June 
(p. 198). Does each poet tend to increase our enjoyment of those 



THE IIUMBLEBEE 249 

months? What, then, is one use of poetry? How does the hum of the 
bee change from May to midsummer? How many of the flowers and 
plants mentioned by Emerson have you actually seen? From which 
have you seen the humblebee "sipping only what is sweet"? Why is 
he called "wiser far than human seer"? Is it possible for us to deter- 
mine what we shall see and "sip"? What does Emerson like best in 
the bee? What does his hum in summer tell the poet? What is your 
impression of the poet ? What words give you this impression ? Memor- 
ize at least one stanza. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Rhodora. Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

Concord Hymn. Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

The Snow Storm. Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

The Mountain and the Squirrel. Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

Forbearance. Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

Solomon and the Bees. John G. Saxe. 

The Taxgatherer (from Child Verse). John B. Tabb. 

The Bumblebee. James Whitcomb Riley. 

The Bee. Emily Dickinson. 



AN EPITAPH ON SALATHIEL PAVY 

A Child of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel 

Ben Jonson 

Ben Jonson (i573?-i637) was born in London. He rose from the 
humble trade of a bricklayer to the position of a popular playwright at 
the court of James I. He was also the author of some exquisite lyrics, 
such as, "Drink to me only with thine eyes." He was an intimate friend 
of Shakespeare. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 199-205, 219. 

Symonds's Ben Jonson. 



[In Elizabethan days boys acted the female parts in the plays. Ophelia, 
Portia, Miranda, and Lady Macbeth were all impersonated by boys. 
The parts of old men were also occasionally played by boys. Salathiel 
Pavy, the subject of this epitaph, was, as Jonson tells us, a boy who 
acted such parts. 

In the tragedy of Hamlet, Shakespeare makes a reference to boy 
actors (see Halleck's New English Literature, p. 166) that shows how 
popular they had become.] 



Weep with me, all you that read 

This little story ; 
And know, for whom a tear you shed 

Death's self is sorry. 
'Twas a child that so did thrive 

In grace and feature, 
As heaven and nature seemed to strive 

Which owned the creature. 
250 



AN EPITAPH ON SALATHIEL PAVY 251 

Years he numbered scarce thirteen 

When Fates turned cruel, 
Yet three filled zodiacs ^ had he been 

The stage's jewel ; 
And did act, what now we moan, 

Old men so duly, 
As, sooth, the Parcae ^ thought him one, — 

He played so truly. 
So, by error to his fate 

They all consented ; 
But viewing him since, alas, too late 

They have repented ; 
And have sought to give new birth 

In baths to steep him ; 
But being so much too good for earth, 

Heaven vows to keep him. 

1 Three years. 

2 The three Greek Fates, Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos, who respectively spun the web of 
life, measured, and cut it. 



TO A WATERFOWL 

William Cullen Bryant 

William Cullen Bryant (i 794-1878), the first great American poet, was 
born in Cummington, Massachusetts. He was descended from John and 
Priscilla Alden, whom Longfellow made famous in the Courtship of Miles 
Standish. When traveling on foot to Plainfield, where he intended 
practicing law, he saw a bird winging its flight toward the sunset. He 
was feeling very lonely at the time, but the courage of the bird in its 
lonely flight gave him new courage. He went on hopefully and at the 
end of his journey wrote To a Waterfowl to commemorate his experience. 
See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 135-145, 152. 

Godwin's A Biography of William Cullen Bryant. 

Bradley's William Cullen Bryant. 

Whither, midst falling dew, 
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, 
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue 

Thy solitary way ? 

Vainly the fowler's eye 
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, 
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, 

Thy figure floats along. 

Seek'st thou the plashy brink 
Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, 
Or where the rocking billows rise and sink 

On the chafed ocean side? 
252 



TO A WATERFOWL 253 

There is a Power whose care 
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — 
The desert and illimitable air — 

Lone wandering, but not lost. 

All day thy wings have fanned, 
At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, 
Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, 

Though the dark night is near. 

And soon that toil shall end ; 
Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, 
And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, 

Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. 

Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven 
Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet, on my heart 
Deeply has sunk the lesson thou hast given. 

And shall not soon depart. 

He who, from zone to zone, 
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, 
In the long way that I must tread alone. 

Will lead my steps aright. 

STUDY HINTS 

What time of day does the poet describe? What lines show that 
the bird was a waterfowl? If you were asked to find in this poem a 
suggestion for a painting, which stanza would you choose ? What would 
you make the central point of interest in the painting? Commit to 
memory the lesson the poet learned from the bird. 



A GROUP OF LETTERS 

LETTER TO ST. NICHOLAS ^ 
Helen Keller 

Helen A. Keller was born in Tuscumbia, Alabama, in 1880. At the 
age of nineteen months, she had an illness which left her deaf, dumb, 
and blind. When she was six years old, a most talented young girl, 
Miss Sullivan, became her teacher. Through her aid and her own per- 
severance, Miss Keller took the degree of B.A. at Radchffe College in 
1904. A few years ago she learned to talk. She has lectured from 
coast to coast in America, and contributed articles to magazines, besides 
writing several books. The World I Live In and The Story of My Life 
are most interesting accounts of the life and experiences of this woman 
who has been called the greatest marvel of the twentieth century. 

Dear St. Nicholas, — It gives me very great pleasure to 
send you my autograph because I want the boys and girls 
who read St. Nicholas to know how blind children write. 
I suppose some of them wonder how we keep the lines so 
straight so I will try to tell them how it is done. We have 
a grooved board which we put between the pages when we 
wish to write. The parallel grooves correspond to lines, 
and when we have pressed the paper into them by means 
of the blunt end of the pencil, it is very easy to keep the 
words even. The small letters are all made in the grooves, 
while the long ones extend above and below them. We 
guide the pencil with the right hand, and feel carefully with 
the forefinger of the left hand to see that we shape and space 

1 From The Story of My Life, copyright, 1903, by Doubleday, Page and Company. 
Used by special arrangement with the publishers. 

254 



LETTER TO GERTRUDE 255 

the letters correctly. It is very difficult at first to form them 
plainly, but if we keep on trying it gradually becomes easier, 
and after a great deal of practice we can write legible letters 
to our friends. Then we are very, very happy. Sometime 
they may visit a school for the blind. If they do, I am sure 
they will wish to see the pupils write. 

Very sincerely your little ^ friend, 

Helen Keller. 

LETTER TO GERTRUDE 2 

Lewis Carroll 

Lewis Carroll is the pen name of the Reverend Charles Lutwidge 
Dodgson (1832-1898), who was for many years lecturer on mathematics 
at Oxford University. He is known most widely as the author of Alice's 
Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass . This letter 
may explain partly why he had so many warm friends among young 
people. 

Christ Church, Oxford, October 13, 1875. 

My dear Gertrude, — I never give birthday presents, 
but you see I do sometimes write a birthday letter: so, as 
I've just arrived here, I am writing this to wish you many 
and many a happy return of your birthday to-morrow. I 
will drink your health if only I can remember, and if you 
don't mind — but perhaps you object? 

You see, if I were to sit by you at breakfast, and to drink 
your tea, you wouldn't like that, would you? You would 
say, " Boo ! hoo ! Here's Mr. Dodgson drunk all my tea, 
and I haven't got any left !" So I am very much afraid, 
next time Sybil looks for you, she'll find you sitting by the 
sad sea waves and crying "Boo ! hoo ! Here's Mr. Dodgson 
has drunk my health, and I haven't got any left !" 

1 She was eleven years old at this time. 

2 Used by courtesy of the Century Company. 



256 A GROUP OF LETTERS 

And how it will puzzle Mr. Maund, when he is sent for to 
see you ! " My dear madam, I'm sorry to say your little 
girl has got no health at all ! I never saw such a thing in 
my life !" "You see she would go and make friends with a 
strange gentleman, and yesterday he drank her health!" 
''Well, Mrs. Chataway," he will say, ''the only way to cure 
her is to wait till his next birthday, and then for her to drink 
his health." 

And then we shall have changed healths. I wonder how 
you'll like mine ! Oh, Gertrude, I wish you would not talk 
such nonsense ! . . . Your loving friend, 

Lewis Carroll. 

LETTER TO MRS. J. T. FIELDS 

Charles Dickens 
[For biographical sketch see page 188.] 



[This letter was written after Dickens's second lecture tour in America. 
James T. Fields, who was a well-known pubhsher in Boston, was instru- 
mental in bringing Dickens to America. One of the pleasant results 
of this tour was that he and Mrs. Fields became warm friends of the 
great novelist.] 



Gads Hill, Hicham, by Rochester, Kent. 

May 25, 1868. 

My dear Mrs. Fields, — As you ask me about the dogs, 
I begin with them. When I came down first, I came to 
Gravesend, five miles off. The two Newfoundland dogs, 
coming to meet me with the usual carriage and the usual 
driver, and beholding me coming in my usual dress out at 
the usual door, it struck me that their recollection of my 
having been absent for any unusual time was at once can- 



LETTER TO MRS. J. T. FIELDS 257 

celed. They behaved (they are both young dogs) exactly 
in their usual manner ; coming behind the basket phaeton 
as we trotted along, and lifting their heads to have their 
ears pulled — a special attention which they receive from 
no one else. But when I drove into the stable yard, Linda 
(the St. Bernard) was greatly excited; weeping profusely, 
and throwing herself on her back, that she might caress my 
foot with her great fore paws, Mamie's little dog, too, Mrs. 
Bouncer, barked in the greatest agitation on being called 
down and asked by Mamie, "Who is this?" and tore round 
and round me, like the dog in the Faust outlines. You 
must know that all the farmers turned out on the road in 
their market chaises to say, "Welcome home, sir !" and that 
all the houses along the road were dressed with flags; and 
that our servants, to cut the rest, had dressed this house so 
that every brick of it was hidden. They had asked Mamie's 
permission to "ring the alarm bell" (!) when master drove 
up, but Mamie, having some slight idea that that compli- 
ment might awaken master's sense of the ludicrous, had 
recommended bell abstinence. But on Sunday the village 
choir (which includes the bell ringers) made amends. After 
some unusually brief pious reflections in the crowns of their 
hats, at the end of the sermon, the ringers bolted out, and 
rang like mad until I got home. There had been a con- 
spiracy among the villagers to take the horse out, if I had 
come to our own station, and draw me here. Mamie ^ and 
Georgy ^ had got wind of it and warned me. 

Divers birds sing here all day, and the nightingales all 
night. The place is lovely, and in perfect order. I have 
put five mirrors in the Swiss chalet ^ (where I write), and they 
reflect and refract in all kinds of ways the leaves that are 

1 His children. 

2 A house where he could write his novels, undisturbed. It was connected with Gads 
Hill by an underground passage. 

H. & B. READINGS — I 7 



258 A GROUP OF LETTERS 

quivering at the windows, and the great fields of waving 
corn, and the sail-dotted river. My room is up among the 
branches of the trees, and the birds and the butterflies fly 
in and out, and the green branches shoot in, at the open 
windows, and the lights and shadows of the clouds come and 
go with the rest of the company. The scent of the flowers, 
and indeed of everything that is growing for mfles and miles, 
is most delicious. . . . 
Ever, my dear Mrs. Fields, your most affectionate friend, 

Charles Dickens. 

LETTER TO GENERAL JOSEPH HOOKERS 

Abraham Lincoln 

Abraham Lincoln (i 809-1 865) was born in Hardin County, Kentucky, 
in a log cabin. He attended school all together one year. His direct, 
clear language which has become a model of pure English for writers of 
to-day, was acquired through his own persistent efforts, — through 
reading and rereading such books as the Bihle, The Pilgrim's Progress, 
Robinson Crusoe, and Franklin's Autobiography. By his speeches in a 
series of debates with Stephen A. Douglas he won a national reputation, 
and was made president in 1861. Shortly after his second inauguration 
he was assassinated by a poor half-crazed creature. His best known 
speech is the Gettysburg Address. See also : 

Halleck's History of American Literature, pp. 343-345. 

Schurz's Abraham Lincoln. 

Nicolay's Boys' Life of Abraham Lincoln. 

Baldwin's Abraham Lincoln. 

Tarbell's Life of Abraham Lincoln. 

Creelman's Why We Love Lincoln. 

January 26, 1863. 
General : 

I have placed you at the head of the army of the Potomac. 
Of course I have done this upon what appear to me to be 
sufl&cient reasons, and yet I think it best for you to know 
that there are some things in regard to which I am not quite 

1 Used by courtesy of the Century Company. 



LETTER TO GENERAL JOSEPH HOOKER 259 

satisfied with you. I believe you to be a brave and skillful 
soldier, which of course I like. I also believe you do not 
mix politics with your profession, in which you are right. 
You have confidence in yourself, which is a valuable if not 
an indispensable quality. You are ambitious, which, within 
reasonable bounds, does good rather than harm ; but I think 
that during General Burnside's command of the army you 
have taken counsel of your ambition and thwarted him as 
much as you could, in which you did a great wrong to the 
country and to a most meritorious and honorable brother 
officer. I have heard, in such a way as to believe it, of your 
recently saying that both the army and the government 
needed a dictator. Of course it was not for this, but in 
spite of it, that I have given you the command. Only those 
generals who gain success can set up dictators. What I now 
ask of you is military success, and I will risk the dictatorship. 
The government will support you to the utmost of its ability, 
which is neither more nor less than it has done and will do 
for all commanders. I much fear that the spirit which you 
have aided to infuse into the army, of criticizing their com- 
mander and withholding confidence from him, will now turn 
upon you. I shall assist you as far as I can to put it down. 
Neither you nor Napoleon, if he were alive again, could get 
any good out of an army while such a spirit prevails in it; 
and now beware of rashness, but with energy and sleepless 
vigilance go forward and give us victories. 

Yours very truly, 

A. Lincoln. 

STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

dictator criticize rashness 

skillful ability energy 

indispensable prevail vigilance 

government confidence accompany 



26o A GROUP OF LETTERS 

What did Lincoln think was the duty that an officer owed a superior 
officer? Does he criticize General Hooker's conduct? Has General 
Hooker criticized Lincoln's ? Does this prevent Lincoln's conferring a 
great honor upon General Hooker? Does Lincoln show any fine trait 
at this point ? What trait of his own may General Hooker have reason 
to fear in the soldiers under him? What are some of General 
Hooker's good traits? Which does Lincoln caution him about? 
A letter usually shows the writer's character. Does this show 
Lincoln's? Judging from the letter, what are some of Lincoln's traits? 

Three qualities are necessary for all letters ; they must be expressed 
clearly, they must be written neatly, they must be written legibly. In 
social letter writing, one more valuable quality is — the letter should 
be interesting. What qualities can you find in this group of letters? 
All of the writers are famous, yet note what subjects they thought were 
interesting to write about, and how simply they wrote. How does 
Lincoln's letter differ from the others? 



LETTER HINTS 

Explain as if to a blind child your method of writing a letter. Try 
to be as clear and exact as Helen Keller. 

Write a letter explaining every step in the making of some article, 
closing with an offer to write further details if your friend does not 
understand your description. 

Your friend intends giving a birthday party which you cannot attend. 
Write a letter expressing your regret that you cannot accept his invita- 
tion, and wishing him " many happy returns." 

Write a letter full of good wishes to accompany a birthday gift. 

You intend giving a birthday party. Write inviting a friend to come, 
and saying whether it will be a formal or an informal affair. 

You have been visiting in another town. On your return home, write 
to your hostess {i.e. the mother of your friend), thanking her for your 
pleasant visit, and telling some incident of your journey that you think 
will be interesting. 

You have moved to a new home in another city. Write to your 
friends at the old home, describing the new house, and the new acquaint- 
ances that have been friendly. 

You have seen a special kind of pocket knife in a shop when visiting 
a friend. Write to him to buy the knife for you. Describe it. Tell him 
where it can be bought, how you want it sent. Be sure to state in what 



LETTER TO GENERAL JOSEPH HOOKER 261 

form you are sending the money, i.e. by stamps, or money order, and 
that you are adding your friend's street-car fare to the price of the 
knife. Close by expressing your regret at giving trouble, and your 
appreciation of his kindness in attending to the matter. 

You want to sell some weekly paper in your town. Write to the firm 
that publishes the paper, asking for the right. State your qualifications 
as to age, success, if any, in a similar line and your reasons for thinking 
you will succeed in this undertaking, then stop and sign yourself 
"Very truly yours," followed by your name on the line below. 

Write a letter to the principal of your school asking for a recom- 
mendation that you can use in applying for a position. 

Write thanking him for his letter of recommendation. 

A schoolmate is ill. Write expressing your sympathy, and offering 
your services. Close with the school news. 

You wish a friend to become a member of the literary society or club 
to which you belong, but some of the members have objected. Write 
to the committee on membership, admitting that your friend has faults, 
but showing that he has qualities that would make his election beneficial 
both for him and for the club. 

Write an imaginary reply by General Hooker to Lincoln's letter. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Lincoln, the Great Commoner (verse). Edwin Markham. 

Letters of Robert Louis Stevenson. Sidney Colvin. 

Success in Letter-Writing. Sherwin Cody. 

Letters from Colonial Children. Eva March Tappan. 

The Gentlest Art. E. V. Lucas. 

Life and Letters of Miss Alcott. E. D. Cheney. 

Children's Letters. Colso^ and Chittenden. 



ANNABEL LEE 

Edgar Allan Poe 

[For biographical sketch see page 122,] 

It was many and many a year ago, 

In a kingdom by the sea, 
That a maiden there lived whom you may know 

By the name of Annabel Lee ; 
And this maiden she lived with no other thought 

Than to love and be loved by me. 

I was a child and she was a child, 

In this kingdom by the sea, 
But we loved with a love that was more than love, 

I and my Annabel Lee ; 
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven 

Coveted her and me. 

And this was the reason that, long ago, 

In this kingdom by the sea, 
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling 

My beautiful Annabel Lee ; 
So that her high-born kinsmen came 

And bore her away from me, 
To shut her up in a sepulcher 

In this kingdom by the sea. 

The angels, not half so happy in heaven. 
Went envying her and me ; — 

262 



ANNABEL LEE 263 

Yes ! that was the reason (as all men know, 

In this kingdom by the sea) 
That the wind came out of the cloud by night, 

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. 
But our love it was stronger by far than the love 

Of those who were older than we, 

Of many far wiser than we ; 
And neither the angels in heaven above, 

Nor the demons down under the sea, 
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee : 

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee ; 
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee ; 
And so, all the nighttide, I lie down by the side 
Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride, 

In her sepulcher there by the sea. 

In her tomb by the sounding sea. 

STUDY HINTS 

This exquisite poem was written after the death of Poe's idolized wife. 
They were married when she was only fourteen, and they had six years 
of rare companionship, despite ill health and hardships of every kind. 
Why does he think that th^ seraphs "coveted her and me"? Is there 
any note of triumph in the poem ? Which thought in it do you consider 
the most beautiful? Give as many reasons as you can to account for 
the fact that this poem is almost a universal favorite. Read it aloud as 
musically as you can. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night. Walt Whitman. 



THE SEEING HAND i 

Helen Keller 
[For biographical sketch see page 254.] 

I HAVE just touched my dog. He was rolling on the 
grass, with pleasure in every muscle and limb. I wanted 
to catch a picture of him in my fingers, and I touched him 
as lightly as I would cobwebs ; but lo, his fat body revolved, 
stiffened, and solidified into an upright position, and his 
tongue gave my hand a lick ! He pressed close to me, as if 
he were fain to crowd himself into my hand. He loved it 
with his tail, with his paw, with his tongue. If he could 
speak, I believe he would say with me that paradise is 
attained by touch ; for in touch is all love and intelligence. 

This small incident started me on a chat about hands, 
and if my chat is fortunate I have to thank my dog-star. In 
any case it is pleasant to have something to talk about that 
no one else has monopolized ; it is like making a new path 
in the trackless woods, blazing the trail where no foot has 
pressed before. I am glad to take you by the hand and 
lead you along an untrodden way into a world where the 
hand is supreme. But at the very outset we encounter a 
difiiculty. You are so accustomed to Kght, I fear you will 
stumble when I try to guide you through the land of darkness 
and silence. The blind are not supposed to be the best of 
guides. Still, though I cannot warrant not to lose you, I 
promise that you shall not be led into fire or water, or fall 
into a deep pit. If you will follow me patiently, you will 

1 From The World I Live In. Used by permission of the Century Company. 

264 



THE SEEING HAND 265 

find that "there's a sound so fine, nothing lives 'twixt it 
and silence," and that there is more meant in things than 
meets the eye. 

My hand is to me what your hearing and sight together 
are to you. In large measure we travel the same highways, 
read the same books, speak the same language, yet our ex- 
periences are different. All my comings and goings turn on 
the hand as on a pivot. It is the hand that binds me to the 
world of men and women. The hand is my feeler with 
which I reach through isolation and darkness and seize every 
pleasure, every activity that my fingers encounter. With 
the dropping of a little word from another's ^ hand into 
mine, a slight flutter of the fingers, began the intelligence, 
the joy, the fullness of my life. Like Job, I feel as if a hand 
had made me, fashioned me together round about, and 
molded my very soul. 

In all my experiences and thoughts I am conscious of a 
hand. Whatever moves me, whatever thrills me, is as a 
hand that touches me in the dark, and that touch is my 
reality. You might as well say that a sight which makes 
you glad, or a blow which brings the stinging tears to your 
eyes, h unreal as to say that those impressions are unreal 
which I have accumulated by means of touch. The delicate 
tremble of a butterfly's wings in my hand, the soft petals of 
violets curling in the cool folds of their leaves or lifting 
sweetly out of the meadow grass, the clear, firm outline of 
face and limb, the smooth arch of a horse's neck and the 
velvety touch of his nose — all these, and a thousand re- 
sultant combinations, which take shape in my mind, con- 
stitute my world. 

Ideas make the world we live in, and impressions furnish 
ideas. My world is built of touch-sensations, devoid of 
physical color and sound; but without color and sound it 

iMiss Sullivan's (now Mrs. Macy), when she began teaching Helen Keller. 



266 HELEN KELLER 

breathes and throbs with life. Every object is associated 
in my mind with tactual ^ qualities which, combined in 
countless ways, give me a sense of power, of beauty, or of 
incongruity : for with my hands I can feel the comic as well 
as the beautiful in the outward appearance of things. Re- 
member that you, dependent on your sight, do not realize 
how many things are tangible. All palpable things are 
mobile or rigid, solid or liquid, big or small, warm or cold, 
and these qualities are variously modified. The coolness of 
a water lily rounding into bloom is different from the cool- 
ness of an evening wind in summer, and different again from 
the coolness of the rain that soaks into the hearts of growing 
things and gives them life and body. The velvet of a rose 
is not that of a ripe peach or of a baby's dimpled cheek. 
The hardness of the rock is to the hardness of the wood what 
a man's deep bass is to a woman's voice when it is low. 
What I call beauty I find in certain combinations of all 
these qualities, and is largely derived from the flow of curved 
and straight lines which is over all things. . . . 

When I think of hills, I think of the upward strength I 
tread upon. When water is the object of my thought, I 
feel the cool shock of the plunge and the quick yielding of 
the waves that crisp and curl and ripple about my body. 
The pleasing changes of rough and smooth, pliant and rigid, 
curved and straight, in the bark and branches of a tree give 
the truth to my hand. The immovable rock, with all its 
juts and warped surface, bends beneath my fingers into all 
manner of grooves and hollows. The bulge of a watermelon 
and the puffed-up rotundities of squashes that sprout, bud, 
and ripen in that strange garden planted somewhere behind 
my fingertips are the ludicrous in my tactual memory and 
imagination. My fingers are tickled to delight by the soft 
ripple of a baby's laugh, and find amusement in the lusty 

1 Relating to touch. 



THE SEEING HAND 267 

crow of the barnyard autocrat. Once I had a pet rooster 
that used to perch on my knee and stretch his neck and crow. 
A bird in my hand was then worth two in the — barnyard. 
My fingers cannot, of course, get the impression of a large 
whole at a glance ; but I feel the parts and my mind puts 
them together. I move around my house, touching object 
after object in order, before I can form an idea of the entire 
house. In other people's houses I can touch only what is 
shown me — the chief objects of interest, carvings on the 
wall, or a curious architectural feature, exhibited like the 
family album. Therefore a house with which I am not 
familiar has for me, at first, no general effect or harmony of 
detail. It is not a complete conception, but a collection of 
object-impressions which, as they come to me, are dis- 
connected and isolated. But my mind is full of associations, 
sensations, theories, and with them it constructs the house. 
The process reminds me of the building of Solomon's Temple, 
where was neither saw, nor hammer, nor any tool heard while 
the stones were being laid one upon another. The silent 
worker is imagination which decrees reality out of chaos.^ 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

incident isolation inexhaustible 

supreme seize rigid 

accustom conscious lose, lost, lost 

pivot yield ludicrous 

How does Helen Keller's dog show his love for her? Has your dog 
any senses that are keener than yours? How many senses does Helen 
Keller's sense of touch replace ? Read carefully her illustrations of this. 
Try to put yourself in her place as you read. Upon what sense do deaf 
people sometimes learn to depend ? It is said that the blind are happier 
than the deaf . Can you give any reasons for this? Do we take as much 

^ Disorder. 



268 HELEN KELLER 

pains to make the deaf happy? Does Helen Keller think she should be 
pitied ? How do we learn to know the world all about us ? What pas- 
sages in this do you think beautiful? Is the title appropriate? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Blindfold yourself and try (a) to find out what some objects are by 
the sense of touch ; {b) to find your way to the door of your room ; (c) to 
see if you can recognize a friend by passing your hand over his face. 

Write your experiences. If you know any one who is blind, or deaf, 
or has lost the use of a limb, watch him for a short while, and see how 
often he has learned bravely to overcome his disability. Do you know 
of any people who have succeeded in spite of their handicap? Bring 
incidents to the class. Express in your own words what Helen Keller 
says in paragraphs three and four, and in the last paragraph. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Story of My Life. Helen Keller. 

The World I Live In. Helen KeUer. 

The Petition of the Left Hand. Benjamin Franklin. 

Autobiography i Benjamin Franklin. 

Edison : His Life and Inventions. Dyer and Martin. 



THE THREE STRANGERS 

Thomas Hardy 

Thomas Hardy (1840- ) was born in the Httle town of Bock- 
hampton, in the southern part of England. Though educated to be an 
architect, he preferred to be a writer. He returned after many years to 
his birthplace, to follow his literary pursuits. His well-known Wessex 
Tales, from which The Three Strangers is taken, describes the life of the 
country around his birthplace. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 529-533, 584. 

Abercrombie's Thomas Hardy: A Critical Study. 

Phelps's Essays on Modern Novelists (Hardy). 

Among the few features of agricultural England which 
retain an appearance but little modified by the lapse of cen- 
turies, may be reckoned the high, grassy, and furzy downs, 
coombs, or ewe-leases, as tb ^y are indifferently called, that 
fill a large area of certain couuaes in the south and southwest. 
If any mark of human occupation is met with hereon it 
usually takes the form of the solitary cottage of some 
shepherd. 

Fifty years ago such a lonely cottage stood on such a 
down, and may possibly be standing there now. In spite 
of its loneliness, however, the spot, by actual measurement, 
was not more than five miles from a county town. 

Higher Crowstairs, as the house was called, stood quite 
detached and undefended. The only reason for its precise 
situation seemed to be the crossing of two footpaths at right 
angles hard by, which may have crossed there and thus for 
a good five hundred years. Hence the house was exposed 
to the elements on all sides. When the shepherd and his 

269 



270 THOMAS HARDY 

family who tenanted the house were pitied for their sufferings 
from the exposure, they said that upon the whole they were 
less inconvenienced by ''wuzzes and flames" (hoarses and 
phlegms) than when they had lived by the stream of a snug 
neighboring valley. 

The night of March 28, 182-, was precisely one of the 
nights that were w^ont to call forth these expressions of com- 
miseration. The level rainstorm smote walls, slopes, and 
hedges like the clothyard shafts of Senlac ^ and Crecy.^ 
Such sheep and outdoor animals as had no shelter stood 
with their buttocks to the winds ; while the tails of little 
birds trying to roost on some scraggy thorn were blown inside 
out like umbrellas. The gable end of the cottage was stained 
with wet, and the eavesdropping flapped against the wall. 
Yet never was commiseration for the shepherd more mis- 
placed, for that cheerful rustic was entertaining a large party 
in glorification of the christening of his second girl. 

The guests had arrived before the rain began to fall, and 
they were all now assembled in the chief, or living, room of 
the dwelling. A glance into the apartment at eight o'clock 
on this eventful evening would have resulted in the opinion 
that it was as cozy and comfortable a nook as could be 
wished for in boisterous weather. The calling of its in- 
habitant was proclaimed by a number of highly polished 
sheepcrooks without stems that were hung ornamentally 
over the fireplace, the curl of each shining crook varying 
from the antiquated type engraved in the patriarchal pictures 
of old family Bibles to the most approved fashion of the last 
local sheep fair. The room was lighted by half a dozen 
candles, having wicks only a trifle smaller than the grease 

1 In the battle of Senlac, or Hastings (1066), William the Conqueror defeated Harold, 
the last of the Saxon kings of England, and established Norman supremacy in England. 
In the battle of Crecy (1346) Edward the Black Prince, son of Edward III of England, 
won a victory over the French king against great odds. These battles were fiercely fought 
by archers whose "shafts fell as thick as rain." 



THE THREE STRANGERS 271 

which enveloped them, in candlesticks that were never used 
but at high days, holy days, and family feasts. The lights 
were scattered about the room, two of them standing on the 
chimney piece. This position of candles was in itself sig- 
nificant. Candles on the chimney piece always meant a 
party. 

On the hearth, in front of a back-brand to give substance, 
blazed a fire of thorns, that crackled "like the laughter of 
the fool." 

Nineteen persons were gathered here. Of these, five 
women, wearing gowns of various bright hues, sat in chairs 
along the wall ; girls shy and not shy filled the window 
bench; four men, including Charley Jake, the hedge 
carpenter, Elijah New, the parish clerk, and John Pitcher, a 
neighboring dairyman, the shepherd's father-in-law, lolled in 
the settle; a young man and maid sat beneath the corner 
cupboard; and an elderly engaged man of fifty or upward 
moved restlessly about from spots where his betrothed was 
not, to the spot where she was. Enjoyment was pretty 
general, and so much the more prevailed in being unhampered 
by conventional restrictions. Absolute confidence in one 
another's good opinion begat perfect ease, while the finish- 
ing stroke of manner, amounting to a truly princely serenity, 
was lent to the majority by the absence of any expression or 
trait denoting that th^ wished to get on in the world, 
enlarge their minds, or do any eclipsing thing whatever — 
which nowadays so generally nips the bloom and bonhomie of 
all except the two extremes of the social scale. 

Shepherd Fennel had married well, his wife being a dairy- 
man's daughter from the valley below, who brought fifty 
guineas in her pocket — and kept them there till they should 
be required for ministering to the needs of a coming family. 
This frugal woman had been somewhat exercised as to the 
character that should be given to the gathering. A sit-still 



272 THOMAS HARDY 

party had its advantages; but an undisturbed position of 
ease in chairs and settles was apt to lead on the men to such 
an unconscionable deal of toping that they would some- 
times fairly drink the house dry. A dancing party was the 
alternative ; but this, while avoiding the foregoing objection 
on the score of good drink, had a counterbalancing dis- 
advantage in the matter of good victuals, the ravenous 
appetites engendered by the exercise causing immense havoc 
in the buttery. Shepherdess Fennel fell back upon the 
intermediate plan of mingling short dances with short periods 
of talk and singing, so as to hinder any ungovernable rage in 
either. But this scheme was entirely confined to her own 
gentle mind ; the shepherd himself was in the mood to exhibit 
the most reckless phases of hospitality. 

The fiddler was a boy of those parts, about twelve years 
of age, who had a wonderful dexterity in jigs and reels, 
though his fingers were so small and short as to necessitate a 
constant shifting for the high notes, from which he scrambled 
back to the first position with sounds not of unmixed purity 
of tone. At seven the shrill tweedle-dee of this youngster 
had begun, accompanied by a booming ground-bass from 
Elijah New, the parish clerk, who had thoughtfully brought 
with him his favorite musical instrument, the serpent.^ 
Dancing was instantaneous, Mrs. Fennel privately enjoining 
the players on no account to let the dance exceed the length 
of a quarter of an hour. 

But Elijah and the boy, in the excitement of their position, 
quite forgot the injunction. Moreover, Oliver Giies, a nan 
of seventeen, one of the dancers, who was enamored of Lis 
partner, a fair girl of thirty- three rolling years, had reckless y 
handed a new crown-piece to the musicians, as a bribe to 
keep going as long as they had muscle and wind. Mrs. 
Fennel, seeing the steam begin to generate on the coun- 

1 A species of horn shaped like a serpent. . 



THE THREE STRANGERS 273 

tenances of her guests, crossed over and touched the fiddler's 
elbow and put her hand on the serpent's mouth. But they 
took no notice, and fearing she might lose her character of 
genial hostess if she were to interfere too markedly, she 
retired and sat down helpless. And so the dance whizzed on 
with cumulative fury, the performers moving in their planet- 
like courses, direct and retrograde, from apogee to perigee, 
till the hand of the well-kicked clock at the bottom of the 
room had traveled over the circumference of an hour. 

While these cheerful events were in course of enactment 
within Fennel's pastoral dwelling, an incident having con- 
siderable bearing on the party had occurred in the gloomy 
night without. Mrs. Fennel's concern about the growing 
fierceness of the dance corresponded in point of time with 
the ascent of a human figure to the solitary hill of Higher 
Crowstairs from the direction of the distant town. This 
personage strode on through the rain without a pause, follow- 
ing the little-worn path which, further on in its course, 
skirted the shepherd's cottage. 

It was nearly the time of the full moon, and on this ac- 
count, though the sky was lined with a uniform sheet of 
dripping cloud, ordinary objects out of doors were readily 
visible. The sad, wan light revealed the lonely pedestrian 
to be a man of supple frame ; his gait suggested that he had 
somewhat passed the period of perfect and instinctive agility, 
though not so far as to be otherwise than rapid of motion 
when occasion required. In point of fact, he might have 
been about forty years of age. He appeared tall, but a 
recruiting sergeant, or other person accustomed to the judg- 
ing of men's heights by the eye, would have discerned that 
this was chiefly owing to his gauntness, and that he was not 
more than five feet eight or nine. 

Notwithstanding the regularity of his tread there was 
caution in it, as in that of one who mentally feels his way; 

H. & B. READINGS — 1 8 



274 THOMAS HARDY 

and despite the fact that it was not a black coat nor a dark 
garment of any sort that he wore, there was something about 
him which suggested that he naturally belonged to the 
black-coated tribes of men. His clothes were of fustian, 
and his boots hobnailed, yet in his progress he showed not 
the mud-accustomed bearing of hobnailed and fustianed 
peasantry. 

By the time that he had arrived abreast of the shepherd's 
premises the rain came down, or rather came along, with 
yet more determined violence. The outskirts of the little 
settlement partially broke the force of wind and rain, and 
this induced him to stand still. The most salient of the 
shepherd's domestic erections was an empty sty at the 
forward corner of his hedgeless garden, for in these latitudes 
the principle of masking the homelier features of your 
establishment by a conventional frontage was unknown. 
The traveler's eye was attracted to this small building by 
the pallid shine of the wet slates that covered it. He turned 
aside, and, finding it empty, stood under the pent-roof for 
shelter. 

While he stood, the boom of the serpent within the adjacent 
house, and the lesser strains of the fiddler, reached the spot 
as an accompaniment to the surging hiss of the flying rain 
on the sod, its louder beating on the cabbage leaves of the 
garden, on the eight or ten beehives just discernible by the 
path, and its dripping from the eaves into a row of buckets 
and pans that had been placed under the walls of the cottage. 
For at Higher Crowstairs, as at all such elevated domiciles, 
the grand difficulty of housekeeping was an insufficiency of 
water ; and a casual rainfall was utilized by turning out, as 
catchers, every utensil that the house contained. . . . 

At last the notes of the serpent ceased and the house was 
silent. This cessation of activity aroused the solitary pedes- 
trian from the reverie into which he had lapsed, and, emerg- 



THE THREE STRANGERS 275 

ing from the shed, with an apparently new intention, he 
walked up the path to the house door. Arrived here, his 
first act was to kneel down on a large stone beside the row of 
vessels, and to drink a copious draft from one of them. 
Having quenched his thirst he rose and lifted his hand to 
knock, but paused with his eye upon the panel. Since the 
dark surface of the wood revealed absolutely nothing, it was 
evident that he must be mentally looking through the door, 
as if he wished to measure thereby all the possibilities that 
a house of this sort might include, and how they might bear 
upon the question of his entry. 

In his indecision he turned and surveyed the scene around. 
Not a soul was anywhere visible. The garden path stretched 
downward from his feet, gleaming like the track of a snail ; 
the roof of the little well (mostly dry), the well-cover, the 
top rail of the garden gate, were varnished with the same 
dull liquid glaze ; while, far away in the vale, a faint white- 
ness of more than usual extent showed that the rivers were 
high in the meads. Beyond all this winked a few bleared 
lamplights through the beating drops, lights that denoted 
the situation of the county town from which he had appeared 
to come. The absence of all notes of life in that direction 
seemed to clinch his intentions, and he knocked at the door. 

Within, a desultory chat had taken the place of movement 
and musical sound. T^e hedge carpenter was suggesting a 
song to the company, which nobody just then was inclined 
to undertake, so that the knock afforded a not unwelcome 
diversion. 

"Walk in," said the shepherd, promptly. 

The latch clicked upward, and out of the night our pedes- 
trian appeared upon the doormat. The shepherd arose, 
snuffed two of the nearest candles, and turned to look at 
him. 

Their light disclosed that the stranger was dark in com- 



276 THOMAS HARDY 

plexion and not unprepossessing as to feature. His hat, 
which for a moment he did not remove, hung low over his 
eyes, without conceaHng that they were large, open, and 
determined, moving with a flash rather than a glance round 
the room. He seemed pleased with the survey, and, baring 
his shaggy head, said, in a rich deep voice, "The rain is so 
heavy, friends, that I ask leave to come in and rest a while." 

"To be sure, stranger," said the shepherd. "And faith, 
you've been lucky in choosing your time, for we are having 
a bit of a fling for a glad cause." 

"And what may be this glad cause?" asked the stranger. 

"A birth and christening," said the shepherd. 

The stranger hoped his host might not be made unhappy 
either by too many or too few of such episodes, and being 
invited by a gesture to a pull at the mug, he readily ac- 
quiesced. His manner, which, before entering, had been so 
dubious, was now altogether that of a careless and candid 
man. 

"Late to be traypsing athwart this coomb — hey?" said 
the engaged man of fifty. 

"Late it is, master, as you say. I'll take a seat in the 
chimney corner, if you have nothing to urge against it, 
ma'am, for I am a little moist on the side that was next the 
rain." 

Mrs. Shepherd Fennel assented, and made room for the 
self-invited comer, who, having got completely inside the 
chimney corner, stretched out his legs and his arms with 
the expansiveness of a person quite at hon^e. 

"Yes, I am rather thin in the vamp," he said, freely, see- 
ing that the eyes of the shepherd's wife fell upon his boots, 
"and I am not well fitted, either. I have had some rough 
times lately, and have been forced to pick up what I can 
get in the way of wearing, but I must find a suit better fit 
for working days when I reach home." 



THE THREE STRANGERS 277 

" One of hereabouts ? " she inquired. 

"Not quite that — farther up the country." 

"I thought so. And so am I; and by your tongue you 
come from my neighborhood." 

"But you would hardly have heard of me," he said, 
quickly. "My time would be long before yours, ma'am, you 
see." 

This testimony to the youthfulness of his hostess had the 
effect of stopping her cross-examination. 

"There is only one thing more wanted to make me happy," 
continued the new-comer, "and that is a little 'baccy, which 
I am sorry to say I am out of." 

"I'll fill your pipe," said the shepherd. 

"I must ask you to lend me a pipe likewise." 

"A smoker, and no pipe about ye?" 

"I have dropped it somewhere on the road." 

The shepherd filled and handed him a new clay pipe, say- 
ing, as he did so, "Hand me your 'baccy-box — I'll fill that 
too, now I am about it." 

The man went through the movement of searching his 
pockets. 

"Lost that too?" said his entertainer, with some surprise. 

"I am afraid so," said the man, with some confusion. 
"Give it to me in a screw of paper." Lighting his pipe at 
the candle with a suction that drew the whole flame into the 
bowl, he resettled himself in the corner, and bent his looks 
upon the faint steam from his damp legs, as if he wished to 
say no more. 

Meanwhile the general body of guests had been taking 
little notice of this visitor by reason of an absorbing dis- 
cussion in which they were engaged with the band, about a 
tune for the next dance. The matter being settled, they 
were about to stand up, when an interruption came in the 
shape of another knock at the door. 



278 THOMAS HARDY 

At sound of the same the man in the chimney corner took 
up the poker and began stirring the fire as if doing it 
thoroughly were the one aim of his existence ; and a second 
time the shepherd said, ''Walk in!" In a moment another 
man stood upon the straw-woven doormat. He, too, was a 
stranger. 

This individual was one of a type radically different from 
the first. There was more of the commonplace in his manner, 
and a certain jovial cosmopolitanism sat upon his features. 
He was several years older than the first arrival, his hair 
being slightly frosted, his eyebrows bristly, and his whiskers 
cut back from his cheeks. His face was rather full and 
flabby, and yet it was not altogether a face without power. A 
few grog-blossoms marked the neighborhood of his nose. 
He flung back his long drab greatcoat, revealing that be- 
neath it he wore a suit of cinder-gray shade throughout; 
large, heavy seals of some metal or other that would take a 
polish, dangling from his fob, as his only personal ornament. 
Shaking the water drops from his low-crowned glazed hat, 
he said, "I must ask for a few minutes' shelter, comrades, or 
I shall be wetted to my skin before I get to Casterbridge." 

"Make yourself at home, master," said the shepherd, 
perhaps a trifle less heartily than on the first occasion. Not 
that Fennel had the least tinge of niggardliness in his com- 
position ; but the room was far from large, spare chairs were 
not numerous, and damp companions were not altogether 
desirable at close quarters for the women and girls in their 
bright- colored gowns. 

However, the second comer, after taking off his great- 
coat, and hanging his hat on a nail in one of the ceiling 
beams as if he had been specially invited to put it there, 
advanced and sat down at the table. This had been pushed 
so closely into the chimney corner, to give all available room 
to the dancers, that its inner edge grazed the elbow of the 



THE THREE STRANGERS 279 

man who had ensconced himself by the fire; and thus the 
two strangers were brought into close companionship. They 
nodded to each other by way of breaking the ice of un- 
acquaintance, and the first stranger handed his neighbor the 
family mug — a huge vessel of brown ware, having its upper 
edge worn away like a threshold by the rub of whole genera- 
tions of thirsty lips that had gone the way of all flesh, and 
bearing the following inscription burned upon its rotund side 
in yellow letters : 

THERE is NO FUN 
UNTIlL i CUM. 

The other man, nothing loath, raised the mug to his lips, 
and drank on, and on, and on — till a curious blueness over- 
spread the countenance of the shepherd's wife, who had 
regarded with no little surprise the first stranger's free offer 
to the second of what did not belong to him to dispense. 

"I knew it!" said the toper to the shepherd, with much 
satisfaction. "When I walked up your garden before coming 
in, and saw the hives all of a row, I said to myself, 'Where 
there's bees there's honey, and where there's honey there's 
mead.' But mead of such a truly comfortable sort as this I 
really didn't expect to meet in my older days." He took 
yet another pull at the mug, till it assumed an ominous 
elevation. ^ 

" Glad you enjoy it ! " said the shepherd, warmly. 

"It is goodish mead," assented Mrs. Fennel, with an 
absence of enthusiasm which seemed to say that it was pos- 
sible to buy praise for one's cellar at too heavy a price. "It 
is trouble enough to make, and really I hardly think we shall 
make any more. For honey sells well, and we ourselves can 
make shift with a drop o' small mead and metheglin ^ for 
common use from the comb-washings." 

1 A drink made of fermented honey. 



28o THOMAS HARDY 

"Oh, but you'll never have the heart!" reproachfully 
cried the stranger in cinder-gray, after taking up the mug a 
third time and setting it down empty. ''I love mead when 
'tis old like this, as I love to go to church o' Sundays, or to 
relieve the needy any day of the week," 

"Ha, ha, ha !" said the man in the chimney corner, who, 
in spite of the taciturnity induced by the pipe of tobacco, 
could not or would not refrain from this slight testimony to 
his comrade's humor. 

Now, the old mead of those days, brewed of the purest 
first-year or maiden honey — four pounds to the gallon, with 
its due complement of white of eggs, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, 
mace, rosemary, yeast, and processes of working, bottling, 
and cellaring — tasted remarkably strong ; but it did not 
taste so strong as it actually was. Hence, presently the 
stranger in cinder-gray at the table, moved by its creeping 
influence, unbuttoned his waistcoat, threw himself back in 
his chair, spread his legs, and made his presence felt in various 
ways. 

"Well, well, as I say," he resumed, "I am going to Caster- 
bridge, and to Casterbridge I must go. I should have been 
almost there by this time ; but the rain drove me into your 
dwelling, and I'm not sorry for it." 

"You don't live in Casterbridge?" said the shepherd. 

"Not as yet, though I shortly mean to move there." 

"Going to set up in trade, perhaps?" 

"No, no," said the shepherd's wife. "It is easy to see 
that the gentleman is rich, and don't want to work at any- 
thing." 

The cinder-gray stranger paused, as if to consider whether 
he would accept that definition of himself. He presently 
rejected it by answering, "Rich is not quite the word for me, 
dame. I do work, and I must work. And even if I only 
get to Casterbridge by midnight I must begin work there at 



THE THREE STRANGERS 281 

eight to-morrow morning. Yes, het or wet, blow or snow, 
famine or sword, my day's work to-morrow must be done." 

"Poor man! Then, in spite o' seeming, you be worse off 
than we," replied the shepherd's wife. 

" 'Tis the nature of my trade, men and maidens. 'Tis the 
nature of my trade more than my poverty. . . . But 
really and truly I must be up and off, or I shan't get a lodg- 
ing in the town." However, the speaker did not move, and 
directly added, "There's time for one more draft of friend- 
ship before I go, and I'd perform it at once if the mug were 
not dry." 

"Here's a mug o' small," said Mrs. Fennel. "Small, we 
call it, though to be sure 'tis only the first wash o' the 
combs." 

"No," said the stranger, disdainfully. "I won't spoil 
your first kindness by partaking o' your second." 

"Certainly not," broke in Fennel. "We don't increase 
and multiply every day, and I'll fill the mug again." He 
went away to the dark place under the stairs where the barrel 
stood. The shepherdess followed him. 

"Why should you do this?" she said, reproachfully, as 
soon as they were alone. "He's emptied it once, though it 
held enough for ten people ; and now he's not contented wi' 
the small, but must needs call for more o' the strong ! And a 
stranger unbeknown to any of us. For my part, I don't 
like the look o' the man at all." 

"But he's in the house, my honey; and 'tis a wet night, 
and a christening. Daze it, what's a cup of mead more or 
less? there'll be plenty more next bee-turning." 

"Very well — this time, then," she answered, looking 
wistfully at the barrel. "But what is the man's calling, and 
where is he one of, that he should come in and join us like 
this?" 

"I don't know. I'll ask him again," 



282 THOMAS HARDY 

The catastrophe of having the mug drained dry at one 
pull by the stranger in cinder-gray was effectually guarded 
against this time by Mrs. Fennel. She poured out his 
allowance in a small cup, keeping the large one at a discreet 
distance from him. When he had tossed off his portion 
the shepherd renewed his inquiry about the stranger's 
occupation. 

The latter did not immediately reply, and the man in the 
chimney corner, with sudden demons trativeness, said, "Any- 
body may know my trade — I'm a wheelwright." 

"A very good trade for these parts," said the shepherd. 

''And anybody may know mine — if they've the sense to 
find it out," said the stranger in cinder-gray. 

"You may generally tell what a man is by his claws," 
observed the hedge carpenter, looking at his own hands. 
"My fingers be as full of thorns as an old pincushion is of 
pins." 

The hands of the man in the chimney corner instinctively 
sought the shade, and he gazed into the fire as he resumed 
his pipe. The man at the table took up the hedge carpenter's 
remark, and added, smartly, " True ; but the oddity of my 
trade is that, instead of setting a mark upon me it sets a mark 
upon my customers." 

No observation being offered by anybody in elucidation of 
this enigma, the shepherd's wife once more called for a song. 
The same obstacles presented themselves as at the former 
time — one had no voice, another had forgotten the first 
verse. The stranger at the table, whose soul had now risen 
to a good working temperature, relieved the difficulty by 
exclaiming that, to start the company, he would sing himself. 
Thrusting one thumb into the armhole of his waistcoat, he 
waved the other hand in the air, and, with an extemporizing 
gaze at the shining sheepcrooks above the mantel piece 
began : 



THE THREE STRANGERS 283 

"Oh, my trade it is the rarest one, 

Simple shepherds all — 
My trade is a sight to see ; 
For my customers I tie, and take them up on high, 
And waft 'em to a far countree !" 

The room was silent when he had finished the verse — with 
one exception, that of the man in the chimney corner, who, 
at the singer's word, "Chorus!" joined him in a deep bass 
voice of musical relish — 

"And waft 'em to a far countree !" 

Oliver Giles, John Pitcher the dairyman, the parish clerk, the 
engaged man of fifty, the row of young women against the 
wall, seemed lost in thought not of the gayest kind. The 
shepherd looked meditatively on the ground, the shepherdess 
gazed keenly at the singer and with some suspicion; she 
was doubting whether this stranger were merely smging an 
old song from recollection, or was composing one there and 
then for the occasion. All were as perplexed at the obscure 
revelation as the guests at Belshazzar's Feast, except the 
man in the chimney corner, who quietly said, "Second verse, 
stranger," and smoked on. 

The singer thoroughly moistened himself from his lips 
inward, and went on with the next stanza as requested : 

"My tools ^re but common ones, 

Simple shepherds all — 
My tools are no sight to see ; 
A little hempen string, and a post whereon to swing, 
Are implements enough for me !" 

Shepherd Fennel glanced round. There was no longer 
any doubt that the stranger was answering his question 
rhythmically. The guests one and all started back with 
suppressed exclamations. The young woman engaged to 
the man of fifty fainted halfway, and would have proceeded, 



284 THOMAS HARDY 

but finding him wanting in alacrity for catching her, she sat 
down trembling. 

"Oh, he's the !" whispered the people in the back- 
ground, mentioning the name of an ominous public officer. 
"He's come to do it. 'Tis to be at Casterbridge jail to- 
morrow — the man for sheep-stealing — the poor clock- 
maker we heard of, who used to live away at Shottsf ord and 
had no work to do — Timothy Sommers, whose family 
were a-starving, and so he went out of Shottsford by the 
highroad, and took a sheep in open daylight, defying the 
farmer and the farmer's wife and the farmer's lad, and every 
man jack among 'em. He" (and they nodded toward the 
stranger of the deadly trade) "is come from up the country 
to do it because there's not enough to do in his own county 
town, and he's got the place here now our own county- 
man's dead ; he's going to live in the same cottage under the 
prison wall." 

The stranger in cinder-gray took no notice of this whispered 
string of observations, but again wetted his lips. Seeing 
that his friend in the chimney corner was the only one who 
reciprocated his joviality in any way, he held out his cup 
toward that appreciative comrade, who also held out his own. 
They clinked together, the eyes of the rest of the room hang- 
ing upon the singer's actions. He parted his lips for the third 
verse, but at that moment another knock was audible upon 
the door. This time the knock w^as faint and hesitating. 

The company seemed scared; the shepherd looked with 
consternation toward the entrance, and it was with some effort 
that he resisted his alarmed wife's deprecatory glance, and 
uttered for the third time the welcoming words, "Walk in!" 

The door was gently opened, and another man stood upon 
the mat. He, like those who had preceded him, was a 
stranger. This time it was a short, small personage, of fair 
complexion, and dressed in a decent suit of dark clothes. 



THE THREE STRANGERS 



28s 



''Can you tell me the way to ?" he began; when, 

gazing round the room to observe the nature of the com- 
pany among whom he had fallen, his eyes lighted on the 
stranger in cinder-gray. It was just at the instant when the 
latter, who had thrown his mind into his song with such a 
will that he scarcely heeded the interruption, silenced all 
whispers and inquiries by bursting into his third verse : 

"To-morrow is my working day, 

Simple shepherds all — 
To-morrow is a working day for me : 
For the farmer's sheep is slain, and the lad who did it ta'en. 
And on his soul may God ha' merc-y !" 

The stranger in the chimney corner, waving cups with the 
singer so heartily that his mead splashed over on the hearth, 
repeated in his bass voice as before : 

"And on his soul may God ha' merc-y !" 

All this time the 
third stranger had 
been standing in the 
doorway. Finding 
now that he did not 
come forward or go 
on speaking, the 
guests particularly 
regarded him. They 
noticed, to their sur- 
prise, that he stood 
before them the pic- 
ture of abject terror 
— his knees trem- 
bling, his hand shak- 
ing so violently that 
the door latch by 




286 THOMAS HARDY 

which he supported himself rattled audibly; his white lips 
were parted, and his eyes fixed on the merry officer of justice 
in the middle of the room. A moment more and he had 
turned, closed the door, and fled. 

"What a man can it be?" said the shepherd. 

The rest, between the awfulness of their late discovery 
and the odd conduct of this third visitor, looked as if they 
knew not what to think, and said nothing. Instinctively 
they withdrew further and further from the grim gentleman 
in their midst, whom some of them seemed to take for the 
Prince of Darkness himself, till they formed a remote circle, 
an empty space of floor being left between them and him — 

"... circulus, cujus centrum diabolus." ^ 

The room was so silent — though there were more than 
twenty people in it — that nothing could be heard but the 
patter of the rain against the window shutters, accompanied 
by the occasional hiss of a stray drop that fell down the 
chimney into the fire, and the steady puffing of the man in 
the corner, who had now resumed his pipe of long clay. 

The stillness was unexpectedly broken. The distant 
sound of a gun reverberated through the air — apparently 
from the direction of the county town. 

"Be jiggered ! " cried the stranger who had sung the song, 
jumping up. 

"What does that mean?" asked several. 

"A prisoner escaped fom the jail — that's what it means." 

All listened. The sound was repeated, and none of them 
spoke but the man in the chimney corner, who said, quietly, 
"I've often been told that in this county they fire a gun at 
such times ; but I never heard it till now." 

"I wonder if it is my man?" murmured the personage in 
cinder-gray. 

1 Latin for "A little circle whose center is the Evil One." 



THE THREE STRANGERS 287 

"Surely it is!" said the shepherd, involuntarily. "And 
surely we've seen him! That little man who looked in at 
the door by now, and quivered like a leaf when he seed ye 
and heard your song." 

"His teeth chattered, and the breath went out of his 
body," said the dairyman. 

"And his heart seemed to sink within him like a stone," 
said Oliver Giles. 

"And he bolted as if he'd been shot at," said the hedge 
carpenter. 

"True — his teeth chattered, and his heart seemed to 
sink ; and he bolted as if he'd been shot at," slowly summed 
up the man in the chimney corner. 

"I didn't notice it," remarked the hangman. 

"We were all a- wondering what made him run off in such 
a fright," faltered one of the women against the wall, "and 
now 'tis explained." 

The firing of the alarm gun went on at intervals, low and 
sullenly, and their suspicions became a certainty. The 
sinister gentleman in cinder-gray roused himself. "Is there 
a constable here?" he asked, in thick tones. "If so, let 
him step forward." 

The engaged man of fifty stepped quavering out of the 
corner, his betrothed beginning to sob on the back of the 
chair. ^ 

"You are a sworn constable?" 

"I be, sir." 

"Then pursue the criminal at once, with assistance, and 
bring him back here. He can't have gone far." 

"I will, sir, I will — when I've got my staff. I'll go home 
and get it, and come sharp here, and start in a body." 

" Staff ! — never mind your staff ; the man'U be gone ! " 

" But I can't do nothing without my staff — can I, William, 
and John, and Charles Jake? No; for there's the King's 



288 THOMAS HARDY 

royal crown a-painted on en in yaller and gold, and the lion 
and the unicorn, so as when I raise en up and hit my prisoner, 
'tis made a lawful blow thereby. I wouldn't 'tempt to take up 
a man without my staff — no, not I. If I hadn't the law to 
gie me courage, why, instead o' my taking up him he might 
take up me!" 

" Now, I'm a King's man myself, and can give you authority 
enough for this," said the formidable officer in gray. "Now 
then, all of ye, be ready. Have ye any lanterns ? " 

"Yes — have ye any lanterns? — I demand it !" said the 
constable. 

"And the rest of you able-bodied — " 

"Able-bodied men — yes — the rest of ye!" said the 
constable. 

"Have you some good stout staves and pitchforks — " 

"Staves and pitchforks — in the name o' the law! And 
take 'em in yer hands and go in quest, and do as we in 
authority tell ye ! " 

Thus aroused, the men prepared to give chase. The evi- 
dence was, indeed, though circumstantial, so convincing, 
that but little argument was needed to show the shepherd's 
guests that after what they had seen it would look very 
much like connivance if they did not instantly pursue the 
unhappy third stranger, who could not as yet have gone 
more than a few hundred yards over such uneven country. 

A shepherd is always well provided with lanterns; and, 
lighting these hastily, and with hurdle staves in their hands, 
they poured out of the door, taking a direction along the 
crest of the hill, away from the town, the rain having for- 
tunately a little abated. 

Disturbed by the noise, or possibly by unpleasant dreams 
of her baptism, the child who had been christened began to 
cry heart-brokenly in the room overhead. These notes of 
grief came down through the chinks of the floor to the ears 



THE THREE STRANGERS 289 

of the women below, who jumped up one by one, and seemed 
glad of the excuse to ascend and comfort the baby, for the 
incidents of the last half hour greatly oppressed them. Thus 
in the space of two or three minutes the room on the ground 
floor was deserted quite. 

But it was not for long. Hardly had the sound of foot- 
steps died away when a man returned round the corner of 
the house from the direction the pursuers had taken. Peep- 
ing in at the door, and seeing nobody there, he entered 
leisurely. It was the stranger of the chimney corner, who 
had gone out with the rest. The motive of his return was 
shown by his helping himself to a cut piece of skimmer-cake 
that lay on a ledge beside where he had sat, and which he 
had apparently forgotten to take with him. He also poured 
out half a cup more mead from the quantity that remained, 
ravenously eating and drinking these as he stood. He had 
not finished when another figure came in just as quietly — 
his friend in cinder-gray. 

"Oh — you here?" said the latter, smiling. "I thought 
you had gone to help in the capture." And this speaker also 
revealed the object of his return by looking solicitously round 
for the fascinating mug of old mead. 

"And I thought you had gone," said the other, continuing 
his skimmer-cake with some effort. 

"Well, on second thoughts, I felt there were enough with- 
out me," said the first, confidentially, "and such a night as 
it is, too. Besides, 'tis the business o' the government to 
take care of its criminals — not mine." 

"True; so it is. And I felt as you did, that there were 
enough without me." 

"I don't want to break my limbs running over the humps 
and hollows of this wild country." 

"Nor I neither, between you and me." 

"These shepherd people are used to it — simple-minded 

H. & B. READINGS — IQ 



290 THOMAS HARDY 

souls, you know, stirred up to anything in a moment. They'll 
have him ready for me before the morning, and no trouble 
to me at all." 

"They'll have him, and we shall have saved ourselves all 
labor in the matter." 

"True, true. Well, my way is to Casterbridge ; and 'tis 
as much as my legs will do to take me that far. Going the 
same way?" 

"No, I am sorry to say ! I have to get home over there" 
(he nodded indefinitely to the right), "and I feel as you do, 
that it is quite enough for my legs to do before bedtime." 

The other had by this time finished the mead in the mug, 
after which, shaking hands heartily at the door, and wishing 
each other well, they went their several ways. 

In the meantime the company of pursuers had reached 
the end of the hog's-back elevation which dominated this 
part of the coomb. They had decided on no particular plan 
of action; and, finding that the man of the baleful trade 
was no longer in their company, they seemed quite unable 
to form any such plan now. They descended in all directions 
down the hill, and straightway several of the party fell into 
the snare set by Nature for all misguided midnight ramblers 
over this part of the cretaceous formation. The "lynchets," 
or flint slopes, which belted the escarpment at intervals of a 
dozen yards, took the less cautious ones unawares, and losing 
their footing on the rubbly steep, they slid sharply down- 
ward, the lanterns rolling from their hands to the bottom, 
and there lying on their sides till the horn was scorched 
through. 

When they had again gathered themselves together, the 
shepherd, as the man who knew the country best, took the 
lead, and guided them round these treacherous inclines. 
The lanterns, which seemed rather to dazzle their eyes and 
warn the fugitive than to assist them in the exploration, 



THE THREE STRANGERS 291 

were extinguished, due silence was observed ; and in this 
more rational order they plunged into the vale. It was a 
grassy, briery, moist defile, affording some shelter to any 
person who had sought it ; but the party perambulated it in 
vain, and ascended on the other side. Here they wandered 
apart, and after an interval closed together again to report 
progress. At the second time of closing in they found them- 
selves near a lonely ash, the single tree on this part of the 
upland, probably sown there by a passing bird some fifty 
years before. And here, standing a little to one side of the 
trunk, as motionless as the trunk itself, appeared the man they 
were in quest of, his outline being well defined against the 
sky beyond. The band noiselessly drew up and faced him. 

"Your money or your life!" said the constable, sternly, 
to the still figure. 

"No, no," whispered John Pitcher. "'Tisn't our side 
ought to say that. That's the doctrine of vagabonds like 
him, and we be on the side of the law." 

"Well, well," replied the constable, impatiently; "I must 
say something, mustn't I? and if you had all the weight o' 
this undertaking upon your mind, perhaps you'd say the 
wrong thing too ! Prisoner at the bar, surrender, in the 
name of the Father — the Crown, I mane !" 

The man under the tree seemed now to notice them for 
the first time, and giving them no opportunity whatever for 
exhibiting their courage, he strolled slowly toward them. 
He was, indeed, the little man, the third stranger ; but his 
trepidation had in a great measure gone. 

"Well, travelers," he said, "did I hear ye speak to me?" 

"You did; you've got to come and be our prisoner at 
once," said the constable. "We arrest ye on the charge of 
not biding in Casterbridge jail in a decent proper manner 
to be hung to-morrow morning. Neighbors, do your duty, 
and seize the culpet ! '* 



292 THOMAS HARDY 

On hearing the charge, the man seemed enlightened, and, 
saying not another word, resigned himself with preternatural 
civility to the search party, who, with their staves in their 
hands, surrounded him on all sides, and marched him back 
toward the shepherd's cottage. 

It was eleven o'clock by the time they arrived. The light 
shining from the open door, a sound of men's voices within, 
proclaimed to them as they approached the house that some 
new events had arisen in their absence. 

On entering they discovered the shepherd's living room to 
be invaded by two officers from Casterbridge jail, and a 
well-known magistrate who lived at the nearest country- 
seat, intelligence of the escape having become generally 
circulated. 

"Gentlemen," said the constable, "I have brought back 
your man — not without risk and danger ; but every one 
must do his duty ! He is inside this circle of able-bodied 
persons, who have lent me useful aid, considering their 
ignorance of Crown work. Men, bring forward your 
prisoner!" And the third stranger was led to the 
light. 

"Who is this?" said one of the officials. 

"The man," said the constable. 

"Certainly not," said the turnkey; and the first corrob- 
orated his statement. 

"But how can it be otherwise?" asked the constable. 
"Or why was he so terrified at sight o' the singing instru- 
ment of the law who sat there ? " Here he related the strange 
behavior of the third stranger on entering the house during 
the hangman's song. 

"Can't understand it," said the officer, coolly. "All I 
know is that it is not the condemned man. He's quite a 
different character from this one; a gauntish fellow, with 
dark hair and eyes, rather good-looking, and with a musical 



THE THREE STRANGERS 293 

bass voice that if you heard it once you'd never mistake as 
long as you lived." 

"Why, souls — 'twas the man in the chimney corner!" 

"Hey — what?" said the magistrate, coming forward 
after inquiring particulars from the shepherd in the back- 
ground. "Haven't you got the man after all?" 

"Well, sir," said the constable, "he's the man we were in 
search of, that's true ; and yet he's not the man we were in 
search of. For the man we were in search of was not the 
man we wanted, sir, if you understand my everyday way; 
for 'twas the man in the chimney corner ! " 

"A pretty kettle of fish altogether !" said the magistrate. 
"You had better start for the other man at once." 

The prisoner now spoke for the first time. The mention 
of the man in the chimney corner seemed to have moved him 
as nothing else could do. " Sir," he said, stepping forward to 
the magistrate, "take no more trouble about me. The 
time is come when I may as well speak. I have done noth- 
ing; my crime is that the condemned man is my brother. 
Early this afternoon I left home at Shottsford to tramp it 
all the way to Casterbridge jail to bid him farewell. I was 
benighted, and called here to rest and ask the way. When 
I opened the door I saw before me the very man, my brother, 
that I thought to see in the condemned cell at Casterbridge, 
He was in this chimney corner ; and jammed close to him, 
so that he could not have got out if he had tried, was the 
executioner who'd come to take his life, singing a song about 
it, and not knowing that it was his victim who was close by, 
joining in to save appearances. My brother looked a glance 
of agony at me, and I knew he meant, 'Don't reveal what 
you see, my life depends on it.' I was so terror-struck that 
I could hardly stand, and, not knowing what I did, I turned 
and hurried away." 

The narrator's manner and tone had the stamp of truth. 



294 THOMAS HARDY 

and his story made a great impression on all around. "And 
do you know where your brother is at the present time?" 
asked the magistrate. 

"I do not. I have never seen him since I closed this 
door." 

"I can testify to that, for we've been between ye ever 
since," said the constable. 

"Where does he think to fly to ? — what is his occupation ? " 

"He's a watch and clock maker, sir." 

"'A said 'a was a wheelwright — a wicked rogue," said 
the constable. 

"The wheels of clocks and watches he meant, no doubt," 
said Shepherd Fennel. "I thought his hands were palish 
for 's trade." 

"Well, it appears to me that nothing can be gained by 
retaining this poor man in custody," said the magistrate. 
"Your business lies with the other, unquestionably." 

And so the little man was released off-hand; but he 
looked nothing the less sad on that account, it being beyond 
the power of magistrate or constable to raze out the written 
troubles in his brain, for they concerned another whom he 
regarded with more solicitude than himself. When this was 
done, and the man had gone his way, the night was found 
to be so far advanced that it was deemed useless to renew 
the search before the next morning. 

Next day, accordingly, the quest for the clever sheep- 
stealer became general and keen, to all appearance at least. 
But the intended punishment was cruelly disproportioned to 
the transgression, and the sympathy of a great many coun- 
try folk in that district was strongly on the side of the fugi- 
tive. Moreover, his marvelous coolness and daring in hob- 
and-nobbing with the hangman, under the unprecedented 
circumstances of the shepherd's party, w^on their admiration. 
So that it may be questioned if all those who ostensibly made 



THE THREE STRANGERS 295 

themselves so busy in exploring woods and fields and lanes 
were quite so thorough when it came to the private examina- 
tion of their own lofts and out-houses. Stories were afloat 
of a mysterious figure being occasionally seen in some old 
overgrown track-way or other, remote from turnpike roads ; 
but when a search was instituted in any of these suspected 
quarters nobody was found. Thus the days and weeks passed 
without tidings. 

In brief, the bass-voiced man of the chimney corner was 
never recaptured. Some said that he went across the sea, 
others that he did not, but buried himself in the depths of a 
populous city. At any rate, the gentleman in cinder-gray 
never did his morning's work at Casterbridge, nor met 
anywhere at all, for business purposes, the genial comrade 
with whom he had passed an hour of relaxation in the lonely 
house on the coomb. 

The grass has long been green on the graves of Shepherd 
Fennel and his frugal wife; the guests who made up the 
christening party have mainly followed their entertainers to 
the tomb ; the baby in whose honor they all had met is a 
matron in the sear and yellow leaf. But the arrival of the 
three strangers at the shepherd's that night, and the details 
connected therewith, is a story as well known as ever in the 
country about Higher Crowstairs. 







Y- 








STUDY HINTS 




le spelling 


and 


meaning of these words : 




audible 




assistance 


magistrate 


marvelous 




connivance 


agony 


fugitive 




exhibiting 


busy- 


narrator 




proclaimed 


business 



The scene of this story is laid in the southern part of England, in 
Hardy's "Wessex," a name which he gives to Dorsetshire and the adja- 
cent district. How does he describe this part of " agricultural England " ? 



296 THOMAS HARDY 

What is the chief occupation of its inhabitants? Describe the interior 
of the shepherd's room. Howmany people were in the party? Describe 
them and their aims. How does Hardy artistically present the general 
fact, "It rained hard"? Why are not three such words in regard to 
the rain all that are necessary? Is there a difference in the conduct of 
the first stranger before he enters the cottage and after? How did the 
second stranger reveal his business? Does the fact that he was well 
dressed and jovial make his trade seem more or less dreadful? How does 
he affect the others ? Would the third stranger have been so much over- 
come by the situation at any other time in the evening? 

What convinces the shepherd and his friends that the third stranger 
is the escaped prisoner? What happens to deepen this belief? Why 
did the first two strangers return to the house? Does the return of the 
second affect the first in any way? Did you actually know who was the 
real fugitive when you had read no farther than the disappearance of 
the third stranger? 

As you look back, how many suspicious acts of the guilty person do 
you recall? From one point of view, this story of the time of George 
IV (i 820-1 830) is a chapter in the social history of England. For cen- 
turies property holders alone had made the laws, and any offense against 
property was terrible in their eyes. Death was still the penalty for 
small thefts. What was the prisoner's offense? Would you have been 
willing to live on mere bread for a week if that had been a condition of 
his escape? Do you feel sympathy for him because you like his per- 
sonaUty, or resent such punishment, or for both reasons? How many 
touches of humor do you find during the progress of the story? 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

You have read stories by three of the best writers of the modern short 
story, Kipling, O. Henry, and Thomas Hardy, and two of the best earlier 
short-story writers, Hawthorne and Poe. Which have been strong in 
character portrayal? Which in plot development? Can you find any 
trait that is common to Hawthorne, Poe, and Hardy ? Reread each story 
and note where the scene is laid. Do the characters in Wee Willie 
Winkie and The Chaparral Prince, for example, speak alike? Does the 
old stage driver in the latter story differ in speech from the robbers? 
In The Ambitious Guest and The Three Strangers, what resemblances and 
what differences do you find ? The comment of one of the shepherds on 



THE THREE STRANGERS 297 

the hands of the first stranger explains the effect of a man's trade upon 
him. How does a factory boy differ in appearance from a farmer's 
boy? Our geographical location determines largely what we do for a 
living. These two — location and business — combined, affect our 
appearance, customs, speech, and opinions. When one community 
differs from another in these respects, we call this difference "local color." 
A very amusing story on this subject is A Local Colorist by Annie Trum- 
bull Slosson. Give examples of local color from other selections that 
you have read ; and also from what you have seen. Narrate an incident 
showing local color, the class deciding what points illustrate this. Write 
one side of a telephone conversation in which you show, without naming 
it, the business of the person at the other end of the line. 

Tell a story of some guilty person, in which you throw the hearer off 
the scent until the conclusion. Some one has taken your umbrella; 
write your efforts at detective work. Send a telegram describing a 
man whom you have seen picking a pocket, but who escaped. You 
have seen two strangers who appear suspicious ; tell your reasons for 
thinking so, as if to a detective. A servant has been wrongly suspected 
of taking some money. Defend him by showing what he has done 
under similar circumstances. Explain away what others think looks 
suspicious, such as his blushing and his silence. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

The Withered Arm (in Wessex Tales). Thomas Hardy. 

A Double-Barreled Detective Story (in The Man That Corrupted Had- 
leyhurg). Samuel L. Clemens. 

My Disreputable Friend, Mr. Raegen (in Gallegher) . Richard Harding 
Davis. 

The Ship of Stars. A. T. Quiller- Couch. 

The Drawn Blind (in A Delectable Duchy). A. T. Quiller- Couch. 

After All (in Meadow Grass). Alice Brown. 

Joint Owners in Spain. Alice Brown. 

The Prince and the Pauper. Samuel L. Clemens. 

Tom Sawyer. Samuel L. Clemens. 

An Old Mathematician. M. E. W. Freeman. 

The Revolt of Mother. M. E. W. Freeman. 

The Grasshopper and the Ant. Margaret Deland. 

Mrs. Wiggs of the Cabbage Patch. Alice Hegan Rice. 

New Chronicles of Rebecca, Kate Douglas Wiggin. 



LAUGH AND BE MERRY i 
John Masefield 

John Masefield (1875- ), born in Shropshire, England, is a realistic 
poet who often paints life in dull, gray tones. Some of his short lyrics, 
like Laugh and he Merry, are tonic with hope and cheerfulness. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 601, 602, 623. 

John Masefield, Seaman- Author, by Milton Bronner in Bookman, 33 : 
584-591 (August, 1911). 

A Visit to John Masefield, by John Cournos in The Independent, Vol, 
LXXIII, pp. 533-538. 

Laugh and be merry, remember, better the world with a song, 
Better the world with a blow in the teeth of a wrong. 
Laugh, for the time is brief, a thread the length of a span. 
Laugh and be proud to belong to the old proud pageant of 
man. 

Laugh and be merry : remember, in olden time, 

God made Heaven and Earth for joy He took in a rime, 

Made them, and filled them full with the strong red wine of 

His mirth, 
The splendid joy of the stars : the joy of the earth. 

So we must laugh and drink from the deep blue cup of the 

sky. 
Join the jubilant song of the great stars sweeping by. 
Laugh, and battle, and work, and drink of the wine outpoured 
In the dear green earth, the sign of the joy of the Lord. 

1 From The Story oj a Round House and Other Poems, copyright, 1912, by The Mac- 
millan Company. Used by special arrangement with the publishers. 

298 



LAUGH AND BE MERRY 299 

Laugh and be merry together, like brothers akin, 
Guesting awhile in the rooms of a beautiful inn. 
Glad till the dancing stops, and the lilt of the music ends. 
Laugh till the game is played ; and be you merry, my friends. 

STUDY HINTS 

" Better, " in lines i and 2, means " make better." Line 2, of stanza 2, 
means that God made Heaven and Earth belong together as two words 
that rime. 

Memorize at least one stanza and recite it in a spirited way, so that 
those who hear you will feel the splendid vigor of the poetry. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Sea-Fever. John Masefield. 

Roadways. John Masefield. 

/ Saw A Ship A-Sailing. John Masefield. 

Typhoon. Joseph Conrad. . 



THE LONDON VISITS OF A COUNTRY LORD 
IN THE TIME OF CHARLES II ^ 

Thomas Babington Macaulay 

Thomas Babington Macaulay (1800-1859) was born in Leicestershire, 
England. As a small boy, he was a great reader and picked up thereby 
an unusual and large vocabulary. His memory was also remarkable. 
He studied law and was elected a member of Parliament. While he was 
valuable to his country in this capacity, he is best known on account of 
his writings. His Essays retain their popularity on both sides of the 
Atlantic. His style is clearness itself, and frequently so brilliant that 
his History of England, for example, is thought by many to be as interest- 
ing as a novel. He is buried in Westminster Abbey. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 466-472, 581. 

Trevelyan's Life and Letters of Macaulay. 

Minto's Manual of English Prose Literature. 

Morrison's Macaulay. 

Only very great men were in the habit of dividing the 
year between town and country. Few esquires came to the 
capital thrice in their lives. Nor was it yet the practice of 
all citizens in easy circumstances to breathe the fresh air of 
the fields and woods during some weeks of every summer. 
A cockney, in a rural village, was stared at as much as if 
he had intruded into a Kraal of Hottentots. On the other 
hand, when the lord of a Lincolnshire or Shropshire manor 
appeared in Fleet Street, he was as easily distinguished from 
the resident population as a Turk or a Lascar. His dress, 
his gait, his accent, the manner in which he stared at the 
shops, stumbled into the gutters, ran against the porters, 
and stood under the waterspouts, marked him out as an 

1 From History of England, Vol. I, Chapter III. 
300 



THE LONDON VISITS OF A COUNTRY LORD 301 



excellent subject for the operations of swindlers and banterers. 
Bullies jostled him into the kennel. Hackney-coachmen 
splashed him from head to foot. Thieves explored with 
perfect security the huge pockets of his horseman's coat, 
while he stood entranced by the splendor of the lord mayor's 
show. Money droppers, sore from the cart's tail, introduced 
themselves to him, and appeared to him 
the most honest, friendly gentlemen that 
he had ever seen. If he asked his way 
to St. James's, his informants sent him 
to Mile End. If he went into a shop, 
he was instantly discerned to be a fit 
purchaser of everything that nobody 
else would buy, of second-hand em- 
broidery, copper rings, and watches that 
would not go. If he rambled into any 
fashionable coffeehouse, he became a 
mark for the insolent derision of fops 
and the grave waggery of templars. 
Enraged and mortified, he soon returned 
to his mansion, and there, in the homage 
of his tenants and the conversation of 
his boon companions, found consolation 
for the vexations and humiliations which 
he had undergone. There he once more 
felt himself a great man; and he sav/ nothing above him 
except when at the assizes he took his seat on the bench 
near the judge, or when at the muster of the militia he 
saluted the lord lieutenant. 

The chief cause which made the fusion of the different 
elements of society so imperfect was the extreme difi&culty 
which our ancestors found in passing from place to place. 
Of all inventions, the alphabet and the printing press alone 
excepted, those inventions which abridge distance have done 




302 THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY 

most for the civilization of our species. Every improvement 
of the means of locomotion benefits mankind morally and 
intellectually as well as materially, and not only facilitates 
the interchange of the various productions of nature and art, 
but tends to remove national and provincial antipathies, 
and to bind together all the branches of the great human 
family. In the seventeenth century, the inhabitants of 
London were, for almost every practical purpose, farther 
from Reading than they now are from Edinburgh, and 
farther from Edinburgh than they now are from Vienna. 

STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

thief mortified antipathy 

resident homage alphabet 

embroidery humiliation difficulty 

insolent facilitate practical 

Did the treatment of a man from the country by city rogues differ 
very greatly from that of to-day ? How was the lord recognized as from 
the country? What inventions of our day "abridge distance"? The 
second and third sentences of the last paragraph are very thoughtful. 
See if you can understand them. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Using the same method as in W outer Van Twiller, describe a city gentle- 
man in the country, or a country gentleman in the city. Or, using the 
method of Patrick Henry's speech, write down your points in the follow- 
ing: 

Resolved: That the City Boy is as "Green" in the Country, as the 
Country Boy is in the City. 

How We Knew He Was Country-bred. How We Knew She Was City- 
bred. 
What the Interurban Has Done for What the Interurban Has Done 

Cit}^ People. for the Farmer. 



THE LONDON VISITS OF A COUNTRY LORD 303 

A Day in The City. The Way Grandfather Traveled. 

Describe an automobile for some one A Busy City Corner. 

who has never seen one. 
What the Street Railway Does for our Town, 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Lays of Ancient Rome. Thomas Babington Macaulay. 

The Battle of Nasehy. Thomas Babington Macaulay. 

The Story of the Railroad. Cy Warman. 

Stories of Inventors. Russell Doubleday. 

My Garden Acquaintance. James Russell Lowell. 

A Reputed Changeling. Charlotte M. Yonge. 

For the teacher to read to the class : 

Selections from Peveril of the Peak, Sir Walter Scott ; Warren Hastings 
and Life of Samuel Johnson, Thomas Babington Macaulay. 



HOW MANY WAYSi 
Cale Young Rice 

Cale Young Rice (1872- ) was born in Dixon, Kentucky. He is 
not only an exquisite lyric poet, but also a rarely gifted writer of poetic 
dramas. See also : 

Townsend's Kentucky in American Letters, Vol, II, pp. 284-289. 

Cale Young Rice, Poet and Dramatist, Book News Monthly, October, 
1909. 

How many ways the Infinite has 

To-night, in earth and sky : 
A falling star, a rustling leaf, 

The night wind ebbing by. 
How many ways the Infinite has : 

A firefly over the lea, 
A whippoorwill on the wooded hill, 

And your dear love to me. 

How many ways the Infinite has : 

The moon out of the East ; 
A cloud that waits her shepherding. 

To wander silver-fleeced. 
How many ways the Infinite has : 

A home-light in the West, 
And joy deep-glowing in your eyes, 

Wherein is all my rest. 

1 From At the World's Heart (1914). Used by special arrangement with the author. 

304 



HOW MANY WAYS 305 

STUDY HINTS 

From the poems you have read in this book, one thought must have 
come to you : that everything in the world, from a leaf to a star, is won- 
derful and brings joy to us if we will only open our eyes to it. 

Notice how reverently Cale Young Rice has expressed this thought, 
and that each stanza begins and ends with the two most wonderful 
things in the world. What are they ? Mention some of the many ways 
in which the poet says the Infinite expresses Himself. Specify some 
additional beautiful ways that occur to you. 



H. & B. READINGS — 20 



THE CELESTIAL SURGEON 

Robert Louis Stevenson 

[For biographical sketch see page 112.] 

If I have faltered more or less 
In my great task of happiness ; 
If I have moved among my race 
And shown no glorious morning face ; 
If beams from happy human eyes 
Have m.oved me not ; if morning skies, 
Books, and my food, and summer rain 
Knocked on my sullen heart in vain : — 
Lord, thy most pointed pleasure take 
And stab my spirit broad awake ; 
Or, Lord, if too obdurate I, 
Choose thou, before that spirit die, 
A piercing pain, a killing sin, 
And to my dead heart run them in ! 

STUDY HINTS 

Does Stevenson consider his task one merely of being happy himself, 
or also of making others happy? What lines prove your opinion? 
What are some of the things that he thinks should cause happiness? 
Would you find it in the same things? It is the idea of this poem, 
which he held during years of ill health, that has made Stevenson beloved 
of so many readers. 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Read Stevenson's A Child's Garden of Verse and see how many 
forms of happiness he shows in those poems. Can you find a similar 
idea in The Tomb of Tusitala, by Stevenson? "Tusitala," "teller of 
tales," was the name given Stevenson by the South Sea Islanders whom 
he used to entertain with his stories. 

306 



THE GAME OF LIFE i 
Thomas Henry Huxley 

Thomas Henry Huxley (1825-1895), the famous scientist, was born 
in England in the little village of Eahng near London. He began as 
early as 1855 lecturing in simple language to workingmen on the laws 
of nature and man's place in nature. He was a close student of nature 
throughout his long life. His lectures and publications on this sub- 
ject in both America and England won for him in 1883 the presidency 
of the famous Royal Society, which was the highest honor in the gift 
of the scientific world. His ideal was : to be in work and life absolutely 
sincere. See also : 

Huxley's Autobiography. 

Huxley's Collected Essays, Vol. I. 

Thomas Henry Huxley, by Edward Clodd (in Modern English Writers). 

Life and Letters of Thomas Henry Huxley by Leonard Huxley. 

Suppose it were perfectly certain that the life and fortune 
of every one of us would, one day or other, depend upon his 
winning or losing a game of chess. Don't you think that 
we should all consider it to be a primary duty to learn at 
least the names and the moves of the pieces; to have a 
notion of a gambit, and a keen eye for all the means of giving 
and getting out of check? Do you not think that we should 
look with a disapprobation amounting to scorn, upon the 
father who allowed his son, or the state which allowed its 
members, to grow up without knowing a pawn from a knight ? 

Yet it is very plain and elementary truth, that the life, 
the fortune, and the happiness of every one of us, and, more 
or less, of those who are connected with us, do depend upon 
our knowing something of the rules of a game infinitely 

1 From A Liberal Education and Where to Find It (1868). 
307 



3o8 THOMAS HENRY HUXLEY 

more difficult and complicated than chess. It is a game 
which has been played for untold ages, every man and 
woman of us being one of the two players in a game of his 
or her own. The chessboard is the world, the pieces are the 
phenomena of the universe, the rules of the game are what 
we call the laws of nature. The player on the other side is 
hidden from us. We know that his play is always fair, just, 
and patient. But also we know, to our cost, that he never 
overlooks a mistake, or makes the smallest allowance for 
ignorance. To the man who plays well, the highest stakes 
are paid, with that sort of overflowing generosity with which 
the strong shows delight in strength. And one who plays 
ill is checkmated — without haste, but without remorse. 

My metaphor will remind some of you of the famous 
picture in which Retzsch has depicted Satan playing at chess 
with man for his soul. Substitute for that mocking fiend 
in that picture a calm, strong angel who is playing for love, 
as we say, and would rather lose than win — and I should 
accept it as an image of human life. 

Well, what I mean by education is learning the rules of 
this mighty game. In other words, education is the instruc- 
tion of the intellect in the laws of nature, under which name 
I include not merely things and their forces, but men and 
their ways ; and the fashioning of the affections and of the 
will into an earnest and loving desire to move in harmony 
with those laws. For me, education means neither more nor 
less than this. Anything which professes to call itself educa- 
tion must be tried by this standard, and if it fails to stand 
the test, I will not call it education, whatever may be the 
force of authority, or of numbers, upon the other side. 

STUDY HINTS 

Give in your own words the substance of what Huxley says in the 
first paragraph. Do you think he is arguing correctly? Why is the 



THE GAME OF LIFE 309 

game of chess something Hke the game of life? Suppose that you do 
not know the physical laws of digestion, ventilation, temperance, clean- 
liness; should punishment follow? Will it follow? Suppose that you 
do not know or obey the moral laws of life, what is the result? Are 
the Ten Commandments some of the rules of the game of life ? Do you 
know whether Shakespeare and Huxley agree? Did you ever hear of 
any of Shakespeare's characters endeavoring to "shove past conse- 
quence" and do you know whether they succeeded? If you have not 
yet read Shakespeare, can you point to instances in history? In your 
own neighborhood? Which is the sweeter and happier and more in- 
spiring, Huxley's idea of the hidden player or Retzsch's? Give Huxley's 
definition of education. What does he include under the "laws of 
nature"? Under which of his classifications (intellect, affections, will) 
would he put the control of one's temper, sympathy with human beings, 
the power to say "No" to temptation, a Good Samaritan act? What 
sort of reward does Huxley say comes to the man who plays the game 
of life well? 

SUGGESTIONS EOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

A Natural History for Young People. Theodore Wood. 

Starland. Sir Robert I. Ball. 

The Fairyland of Science. A. B. Buckley. 

The Boy Mineral Collectors. Jay G. Kelley. 

Scholars^ A. B. C. of Electricity. William H. Meadowcroft. 

Things a Boy Should Know About Electricity. Thomas M. St. John. 

The Boys' Book of Explorations. Tudor Jenks. 

The Boys' Book of Modern Marvels. C. J. L. Clarke. 

The Land of Little Rain. Mary Austin. 

Camp and Trail. Stewart Edward White. 

Our Vanishing Wild Life. W. T. Hornaday. 

Trail and Camp Fire. Grinnell and Roosevelt. 

The Life of the Spider. Henri Fabre. 

Nearest the Pole. Robert E. Peary. 



A COUNTRY SUNDAY! 

Joseph Addison 

Joseph Addison (1672-1719) was born in Wiltshire, England. He 
was trained for the diplomatic service and held many offices of state, 
including that of chief Secretary of State. He had a singularly winning 
personality. This sketch was taken from his most famous work, the 
Sir Roger de Coverley Papers, which were published in The Spectator, 
a paper issued six days of the week. This series forms a most entertain- 
ing description of an English country gentleman. Sir Roger de Cover- 
ley, and the people of Addison's day. Addison was buried in West- 
minster Abbey, the resting place of many of England's most famous 
men. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 285-292, 302. 

Macaulay's Essay on Addison. 

Thackeray's English Humorists (Addison). 

Courthope's Addison. 

Johnson's Lives of the Poets (Addison). 

I AM always very well pleased with a country Sunday, and 
think if keeping holy the seventh day were only a human in- 
stitution, it would be the best method that could have been 
thought of for the polishing and civilizing of mankind. It 
is certain the country people would soon degenerate into a 
kind of savages and barbarians, were there not such frequent 
returns of a stated time in which the whole village meet 
together with their best faces and in their cleanliest habits 
to converse with one another upon indifferent subjects, hear 
their duties explained to them, and join together in adora- 
tion of the Supreme Being. Sunday clears away the rust 
of the whole week, not only as it refreshes in their minds the 

^ From The Spectator, No. 112, Monday, July 9, 1711. 
310 



A COUNTRY SUNDAY 311 

notions of religion, but as it puts both the sexes upon appear- 
ing in their most agreeable forms and exerting all such quali- 
ties as are apt to give them a figure in the eye of the village. 
A country fellow distinguishes himself as much in the church- 
yard as a citizen does upon the Change,^ the whole parish 
politics being generally discussed in that place either after 
sermon or before the bell rings. 

My friend Sir Roger, being a good churchman, has beau- 
tified the inside of his church with several texts of his own 
choosing. He has likewise given a handsome pulpit cloth, 
and railed in the Communion table at his own expense. He 
has often told me that at his coming to his estate he found 
his parishioners very irregular, and that, in order to make 
them kneel and join in the responses, he gave every one of 
them a hassock and a Common Prayer Book, and at the same 
time employed an itinerant singing master, who goes about 
the country for that purpose, to instruct them rightly in 
the tunes of the psalms, upon which they now very much 
value themselves, and, indeed, outdo most of the country 
churches that I have ever heard. 

As Sir Roger is landlord to the whole congregation, he 
keeps them in very good order, and will suffer nobody to 
sleep in it besides himself ; for if by chance he has been sur- 
prised into a short nap at sermon, upon recovering out of it 
he stands up and looks about him, and if he sees anybody 
else nodding, either wakes them himself or sends his servant 
to them. Several other of the old knight's particularities 
break out upon these occasions : sometimes he will be length- 
ening out a verse in the singing psalms half a minute after 
the rest of the congregation have done with it ; sometimes, 
when he is pleased with the matter of his devotion, he pro- 
nounces amen three or four times to the same prayer ; and 
sometimes stands up when everybody else is upon their 

1 Exchange. 



312 JOSEPH ADDISON 

knees to count the congregation, or see if any of his tenants 
are missing. 

I was yesterday very much surprised to hear my old friend, 
in the midst of the service, calling out to one John Matthews 
to mind what he was about, and not disturb the congrega- 
tion. This John Matthew^s, it seems, is remarkable for being 
an idle fellow, and at that time was kicking his heels for his 
diversion. This authority of the knight, though exerted in 
that odd manner which accompanies him in all circumstances 
of life, has a very good effect upon the parishioners, who are 
not polite enough to see anything ridiculous in his behavior ; 
besides that, the general good sense and worthiness of his 
character make his friends observe these little singularities 
as foils that rather set off than blemish his good quahties. 

As soon as the sermon is finished, nobody presumes to stir 
till Sir Roger is gone out of the church. The knight walks 
down from his seat in the chancel between a double row of 
his tenants that stand bowing to him on each side ; and every 
now and then inquires how such a one's wife, or mother, or 
son, or father do whom he does not see at church ; which is 
understood as a secret reprimand to the person that is absent. 

The chaplain has often told me that upon a catechizing 
day, when Sir Roger has been pleased with a boy that answers 
well, he has ordered a Bible to be given him next day for his 
encouragement, and sometimes accompanies it with a flitch 
of bacon to his mother. Sir Roger has likewise added five 
pounds a year to the clerk's place; and, that he may en- 
courage the young fellows to make themselves perfect in the 
church service, has promised, upon the death of the present 
incumbent, who is very old, to bestow it according to merit. 

The fair understanding between Sir Roger and his chaplain, 
and their mutual concurrence in doing good, is the more 
remarkable because the very next village is famous for the 
differences and contentions that rise between the parson and 



A COUNTRY SUNDAY 



313 



the squire, who live in a perpetual state of war. The 
parson is always preaching at the squire, and the squire, to 
be revenged on the parson, never comes to church. The 
squire has made all his tenants atheists and tithe stealers; 
while the parson instructs them every Sunday in the dignity 
of his order, and insinuates to them in almost every sermon 
that he is a better man than his patron. In short, matters 
are come to such an extremity that the squire has not said 
his prayers either in public or private this half year, and that 
the parson threatens him, if he does not mend his manners, 
to pray for him in the face of the whole congregation. 

Feuds of this nature, though too frequent in the country, 
are very fatal to the ordinary people, who are so used to be 
dazzled with riches that they pay as much deference to the 
understanding of a man of an estate as of a man of learning ; 
and are very hardly brought to regard any truth, how 
important soever it may be, that is preached to them when 
they know there are several men of five hundred a year who 
do not believe it. 

STUDY HINTS 

Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

cleanly tenants behavior 

surprise civilize reprimand 

occasion village parishioner 

Aside from the religious idea of the Sabbath, what reason does Addi- 
son give for observing the day? What does he mean by "the rust of the 
week"? Have you known any one whose conduct at church is like Sir 
Roger's? Give illustrations of Sir Roger's kindness to the people of 
his parish. How do you think they feel toward him ? The author does 
not say whether he and the chaplain are friendly. What is your opinion 
on this point? Compare them with the squire and his chaplain in the 
next village. What method of showing Sir Roger's character does Addi- 
son employ? (See Suggestions, p. 89.) How many instances of humor 
are there in this selection? 



314 JOSEPH ADDISON 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

Using Addison's method, write a character sketch of some one in 
your church who is very generous : it may be either of a man who gives 
money or of a woman who uses her time and strength in service. 

Make your own title and write a theme on one of the following 
topics : 

The Old Gentlemen in the Front Pew. A Country Church. 
Our Church Bazaar. A Sabbath in Colonial Days. 

Winning a Sunday School Prize. What I Do Sunday Afternoon. 

Why I Attend Sunday School. What is the Sabbath for? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

From The Spectator: No. 109, Sir Roger's Ancestors; No. 115, Bodily 
Exercise; No. 116, Sir Roger and the Chase; No. 130, Sir Roger and the 
Gypsies; No. 132, The Journey to London. 

From Irving's Sketch Book: The Country Church; The Stagecoach; 
Christmas Eve; Christmas Day. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
John Ruskin 

John Ruskin (1819-1900), art critic, essayist, and social philosopher, 
was born in London. He was one of the great prose writers who helped 
to mold the thought of the Victorian age. His greatest works are Modern 
Painters and The Stones of Venice. Sesame and Lilies, a volume of essays, 
and The King of the Golden River, an altruistic story, are perhaps his 
most popular books. The following selection from his autobiography, 
to which he gave the title Praterita ("Things Past"), is important 
because it shows what early reading helped to make him a great prose 
writer. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 488-495, 582. 

Cook's The Life of John Ruskin. 

Harrison's John Ruskin. 

I AM, and my father was before me, a violent Tory 
of the old school; (Walter Scott's school, that is to say, 
and Homer's,) ^ I name these two out of the numberless 
great Tory writers, because they were my own two masters. 
I had Walter Scott's novels, and the Iliad (Pope's transla- 
tion) for my only reading when I was a child, on week days : 
on Sundays their effect was tempered by Robinson Crusoe 
and the Pilgrim'' s Process; my mother having it deeply in 
her heart to make an evangelical clergyman of me. Fortu- 
nately, I had an aunt more evangelical than my mother; 
and my aunt gave me cold mutton for Sunday's dinner, which 
— as I much preferred it hot — greatly diminished the in- 
fluence of the Pilgrim^s Progress, and the end of the matter 
was, that I got all the noble imaginative teaching of Defoe 
and Bunyan, and yet — am not an evangelical clergyman. 

1 A Greek epic poet, author of the Iliad and the Odyssey. 



3i6 JOHN RUSKIN 

I had, however, still better teaching than theirs, and that 
compulsorily, and every day of the week. 

Walter Scott and Pope's Homer were reading of my own 
election, but my mother forced me, by steady daily toil, to 
learn long chapters of the Bihle by heart ; as well as to read 
it every syllable through, aloud, hard names and all, from 
Genesis to the Apocalypse,^ about once a year : and to that 
discipline — patient, accurate, and resolute — I owe, not 
only a knowledge of the book, which I find occasionally 
serviceable, but much of my general power of taking pains, 
and the best part of my taste in literature. From Walter 
Scott's novels I might easily, as I grew older, have fallen to 
other people's novels; and Pope might, perhaps, have led 
me to take Johnson's ^ English, or Gibbon's,^ as types of 
language; but, once knowing the 32nd of Deuteronomy, the 
119th Psalm, the 15th of First Corinthians, the Sermon on the 
Mount, and most of the Apocalypse, every syllable by heart, 
and having always a way of thinking with myself what words 
meant, it was not possible for me, even in the foolishest times 
of youth, to write entirely superficial or formal English. 

STUDY HINTS 
Study the spelling and meaning of these words : 

privileges superficial serviceable 

imagination evangelical formal 

occasionally syllable literatiure 

What instances of humor do you find? What authors does he 
specially mention? What is his opinion of the value of his early train- 
ing? Do you think that his opinion is correct ? Aside from the subject 
matter, what else did Ruskin learn in reading the Bihle? How did he 
acquire a vocabulary? Which of the books that he read are you suflfi- 

^ The Revelation, the last book in the New Testament. 

* Samuel Johnson (i 709-1 784), a noted converser and writer, who loved long words 
derived from the Latin. 

' Edward Gibbon (1737-1794), author of The Decline and Fall 0/ the Roman Empire, 
who was also fond of words of Latin origin. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY 317 

ciently familiar with to give some of their general characteristics? How 
many of the same books did Abraham Lincoln (p. 258) and Ruskin read 
early in life? 

SUGGESTIONS FOR ORAL AND WRITTEN ENGLISH 
THEME SUBJECTS 

My Autobiography. The Reading That I now Like and 

My Early Reading. Why I Like It. 

Give two reasons for thinking the Relate orally three Biblical stories. 
Bible a model for those who Debate: Should Sunday Read- 
speak or write. ing Differ from that of Week 

(Quote passages to justify your Days? 
statements.) 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Read from the Bible : The Story of Creation ; The Story of Abraham ; 
The Story of David ; The Story of Samson ; The Story of Ruth ; Daniel 
in the Lions' Den; The Description of the New Jerusalem {Revelation, 
xxi, xxii). 

Read from Pope's or Bryant's translation of Homer's Odyssey : Ulysses 
(Odysseus) and Calypso (Book v) ; The Lotus-Eaters and the Cyclops 
(Book ix) ; ^olus and Circe (Book x) ; The Sirens, ScyUa and Cha- 
rybdis (Book xii). 

Defoe's Robinson Crusoe. (Note the Biblical simpHcity of his style.) 

Frankhn's Autobiography (the first twenty-five pages). 

Ruskin's The King of the Golden River and Sesame and Lilies, Lecture 
II. (The part relating to Shakespeare.) 



SATAN 

John Milton 

John Milton (1608-1674) was bom in London, England, He is, next 
to Shakespeare, the greatest English poet. This description of Satan is 
taken from the sublimest epic in the English language, Paradise Lost. 
Milton was totally blind at the time he produced this, so that he was 
obliged to dictate it to his daughters. It was a tremendous task, for 
the epic embraces twelve books. Milton has exerted great influence 
upon English poetry and prose. See also : 

Halleck's New English Literature, pp. 238-252, 255. 

Pattison's Milton. 

Raleigh's Milton. 

Macaulay's Essay on Milton. 

Masson's The Life of John Milton. 



[In the poem, Satan led a host of rebellious angels against God and 
was cast out of heaven. He then set up a kingdom in the " infernal 
world."] 

Farewell, happy fields, 
Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail, horrors ! hail, 
Infernal world ! ^ and thou, profoundest hell, 
Receive thy new possessor — one who brings 
A mind not to be changed by place or time. s 

The mind is its own place, and in itself 
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. . . . 
Here we may reign secure ; and in my choice 
To reign is worth ambition, though in hell : 
Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven. ... 10 

1 Lower world. 
318 



SATAN 319 

His spear, to equal which the tallest pine, 

Hewn on Norwegian hills to be the mast 

Of some great ammiral,^ were but a wand, 

He walk'd with to support uneasy steps 

Over the burning marl ; not like those steps 15 

On heaven's azure : and the torrid clime 

Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire. 

Nathless he so endured, till on the beach 

Of that inflamed sea he stood, and called 

His legions, angel forms, who lay entranced, 20 

Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 

In Vallambrosa, where the Etrurian shades 

High over-arched imbower . . , 

... he, above the rest 
In shape and gesture proudly eminent, 25 

Stood like a tower : his form had yet not lost 
All her original brightness, nor appeared 
Less than archangel ruined, and the excess 
Of glory obscured : as when the sun new risen 
Looks through the horizontal misty air, 30 

Shorn of his beams ; or from behind the moon, 
In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 
On half the nations, and with fear of change 
Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone 
Above them all the archangel. 3S 



STUDY HINTS 

Read this aloud until you can feel Milton's mastery of harmonious 
rhythm and understand the secret of his influence in English poetry. 

Do you agree with the poet in lines 6 and 7 that our happiness in large 
measure depends upon our way of looking at things? L. 21, "Thick 
as autumnal leaves," etc. is a very famous expression. Try to picture 

1 The ship with which the admiral leads the fleet. " Ammiral " is the old spelling for 
admiral. 



320 JOHN MILTON 

the scene. Read aloud the Hnes that show the indomitable pride of 
Satan. What fine comparisons can you point out? What impression 
do you get of his great size? After studying this selection carefully, 
read it aloud again, then try to think what words will best describe the 
impression it leaves on you. 



SUGGESTIONS FOR ADDITIONAL READINGS 

Lycidas. John Milton. 

On the Morning of Christ's Nativity. John Milton. 
Sonnet on His Blindness. John Milton. 
The Binding of the Strong. A. E. W. Mason. 
For the teacher to read to the class : 

Selections from Milton's L' Allegro, Camus, II Penseroso, and Book I 
of Paradise Lost. 



V- 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: Jan. 2009 

PreservationTechnoiogies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

111 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16066 
(724)779-2111 



V- 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



liiiUilll i! 



Ti.liil! 
HI) 



!.,1, 




013 978 311 6 



i 



,\ !' 



il >i!i! 



